Winter's Rose
by Blood4Ink
Summary: A Regency Romance fanfiction about an English Lord's daughter.
1. Prologue I

The human brain is a marvel. Just 3 pounds in weight and a treasury of memories and experiences stored within. Complete with timing, setting and the feelings related to the particular ones. I believe its human nature to archive the worst ones on the top. Playing it in our heads vividly, whenever a specific sad incident triggers it. Every time a person woes his misfotune, he recalls all the other times he was slighted, disheartening us further but also making us realize its not the only time we'll ever feel this way nor it will be the last. Our brain is considerate like that.

I say my first one, and believe me it was the first of many, is a blessing and a curse. Blessing because it helped me grow up and a curse because it helped me grow away from my brothers as well. Look at me, reciting my woes like a pathetic female. What a cliché. This is not a sad story or memoirs of a woman scorned. No, but it is my story. I do not wish for labels nor do I regret a single day in my life. As I said, I grew up with my experiences.

I am Lyanna Elizabeth Stark, third child and the only daughter of Lord Rickard Stark, The Marques of Winterfell. Sister to Brandon Louise Stark, the wild heir, Eddard Philip Stark, the quiet one and Benjen Marcus Stark, the pup. That being my only identity my whole life- has never been overshadowed by my person and probably never will be. We live in a world made by men, for men. God forbid any termagant female crosses the arbitrary line which they have drawn for us.

Ever since I could remember, my older brother was an imperial part of my life. Courageous and chivalrous: he could do no wrong in my eyes. In my small universe, there was only one Marquees, my father and only one Viscount, my brother. They even looked alike. Tall, topped with a dark brown mane. I call it that because our family was blessed with thick luscious hair. Broad shouldered: I remember riding those shoulders when Heaven knows it wasn't an easy feat but they did it only because I demanded it. I remember my brother's teasing as well as his naughty practical jokes. But when and how the teasing turned into bitter cruelty... I can't tell. I do remember when his endearments for me turned into hurtful name calling and his encouragement became resentment. I blamed his departure to Eton and his companionship and took it upon my tiny shoulders to make him see me again. Change is always hard for a child and my brother's character turn about was just as confusing for me if i was ever forced to believe I was not a Stark.

Determined to squelch this confusion I started following him around more than usual. I got caught more than not, and when I did I got a good biff behind the head. First I noticed the drinking then his crude speech, accompanied by his arrogant and highhanded behavior with the servants and lastly the wenching, which I didn't know actually meant coitus at the time. More than once I've seen him corner Wylla, our parlour maid, and take her to a room. At one time I saw her shake her head at his advances, he was still not deterred. He twisted her arm in anger but unexpectedly she laughed out loud and whispered something to him making him push her back in a darkened alcove. She saw me first, just standing there and scowling at them.

"Get lost, Lia. And keep that fat snout of yours shut in from of anyone"

"I don't have a snout." I insisted while palming my nose.

To which he laughed, "Have you seen the mirror lately? Ugly little trolls like you do have snouts. Now go invade the pantry or something."

I did just that only because Nan took me there after she found me crying in my wardrobe. She fed me sweets, and told me "You are what you eat, lamb. And you're my sweetest little girl." Smiling, I asked the cook to make extra special cupcakes for my brothers.

Ben wolfed the whole thing in one bite.

Ned smiled thinly in gratitude.

And Bran, sigh* "You spared your food to share?" Laughter then he plucked it from my hand, "But I don't eat shite that little cows eat." Smudged it on my head. It took 2 hours of a clucking Nan to wash my hair clean.

See? Many worst memories. One of them being the last day I followed my brother out of love. All for what? To catch a glimpse of Robert Baratheon, the Earl of Draegastone, heir to the dukedom of Stormend, Ned's best chum and receiver of my heartfelt admiration. He was visiting that summer. Seeing that boy in action while hunting was a chance I wasn't going to forego. Although now the wisdom of hiding in a tree while following a hunting party does seem a bit faulty but that was Robert Baratheon! Whom I always admired even at that young age. He was just so tall and broad like Bran. Perhaps the main reason I admired him was his likeness with my elder brother. He was good at everything, as far as my interests were concerned. Riding, climbing, sprinting, rowing, fishing, hunting and I was sure swimming too but I never saw him swim.

"Lia! What the bloody hell are you doing here?"

oh dear God I was found just when Robert was taking aim but he pointed in my direction. I was amazed at that boy's prowess. My 6 year old mind didn't even think far ahead and plan a quiet retreat which might've let some of my dignity intact. I hugged the trunk of the tree, on which I was perched, closely. Thinking foolishly that i was so cleverly hidden. Not anymore anyway.

"Lia!"

Darn it but he didn't let it go nor did he disappear as I strongly wished at the time. I clenched my eyes close. Then surreptitiously cleared my throat and voiced a very reasonable "Meow".

Silence. I had to bite down the urge to lean forward and see what caused it 'Maybe something happened. What if Ned lead them away?' But then I heard the unmistakable guffaws and chortles. Stupid boys. Never was I able to control my temper I snapped, and forgot momentarily that I was hiding. " What?"

"Oh! What's this? A talking little kitten?" My stupid eldest brother Brandon mocked while still laughing.

"I don't know Bran,'tis more likely to be a hellcat." Another peal of obnoxious laughter. Before I could bite my tongue I shouted back,

"If I'm a hellcat Ethan Glover then you're a mangy mutt by how you follow my brother around."

Though I did not care much about society's scruples and the deficiency of polish in my character, it still hurt to be pointed out as an oddity, and I tended to retort as any cornered animal would. By biting back. I didn't understand at the time how I was different from the other girls of my age. I considered myself slightly better than them. With a brain not filled with ribbons and laces and a strength to put even my brothers to shame. Physical strength, that is, which explained how I could climb trees at the age of 6 and thus, my predicament at that moment.

Being the only daughter in a family of 3 strapping sons our society held a lot of expectations under my name, no matter how much unwarranted they were. I wasn't born with urchin capabilities. You see, I am a daughter of an English Marques. A peer of the realm. Starks of Winterfell were one of the oldest families. Our land bordered with the highlands thus gave a lot of tongues a reason to wag about our wild and untamed natures. "It's the Scottish blood." Though these words were practically purred and added charm to my brothers' rakish personalities. But for I, they were tutted in empath for my poor family.

I never understood that. How could they form opinions about me without even knowing me? Why was I subjected to this hypocrisy, when they know and often mention that the men of my family have forever gotten away with anything with their dilly dallying but me... Always under scrutiny..

Later in life I will find out that every woman in the world faces the very same hardship in the name of being the "fairer sex". Do you see the irony in that? Well, I did and probably always will. Cynicism is developed slowly and i believe mine only hardened over time since I didn't have a member of my sex who would have taught me how to soften my words and ignore the hurtful ones hurled at me. My mother died shortly after my younger brother's birth and I didn't exactly have any reliable female relative to fulfill this duty. My distant Scottish Aunts never visited their Sassenach nephews and niece and once or twice when we did they appeared to love me and planned to keep me with them. Which was obviously not fruitful and so I had to arm myself with the said cynicism while growing up.

All that aside, I do not wish to paint myself as a victim. Because I am not and neither do I wish to be. I could say that I am an ordinary English rose, who has waited with an abated breath for her come-out to snag a titled gentleman for marriage. I would be lying. If I say I am a sweet, polite, sweetheart of the ton. Again. Lying. I am anything but sweet. I am outspoken, short-tempered and candid to a fault. I have heard from best sources that I am The Original Wallflower, who"... is destined to be shelved and shall stay there.". I was dubbed the eccentric Spinster Aunt for my future nieces and nephews, by my very own brothers. My looks didn't help antagonize those prophecies either.I listened everything with an air of forced indifference without having anyone to tell how I felt on the inside. Not one soul could fathom that inside this hard veneer lies a heart of a dreamer. One that covets love and affection like a drought ridden plant wants water.

My craving for companionship was what made me follow my brothers everywhere. From tottering in the nursery till I was old enough to know better, I was always like a bad penny to them. It still boggles my mind why I relied on my brothers when they have disappointed me almost every time I needed them. Yet there I was clinging to a tree like a baby monkey desperate for a treat.

"Lyanna, mind your tongue. I will not have you insult my guests."

See? Did he not hear his "guest" call me a hellcat? No.

"He mocked me first!" Now I did swing to reveal myself and saw a smirking Glover. I returned my brother's glare, "I know what you and your cronies call a hellcat, Bran. That redheaded maid may be one but I am not!" Not really. At that time I didn't know what constitutes a "hellcat in the hay" as my brother said but I hoped he wouldn't catch my bluff. He hated whenever I acted less than like a lady and when I copied him. Little did he know- and as long as I have breath in my body, he never will- that I worshipped him. Yet he pushed me away.

Brandon visibly flushed while his friends chuckled. One of them even elbowed him making his embarrassed face contort into one of fury. He is hot-headed like that.

"Damn it, Lyanna. How many times do I have to tell you not to eavesdrop!" He practically shouted, "And how the hell do you know what I meant?"

Instead of revealing my lie I tried another tactic, and recited what my once wet nurse turned nanny, old Nan always said. Well one of the things. "Profanity, Brandon Stark only shows your lack of intelligence. I refuse to listen to the addlepated." I tried to keep a cool face but actually was frantic to find a way down and run back to where I had my WinterRose tied near the creek. That was another secret: me riding a pony at my age, without asking for permission and without a groom. I blanched when I heard his friends laugh again. This will not end well for me.

"I ought to whip you, you damned whelp! Get down so I can tan your hide!" You see, what I said was almost a norm for us but since I said it infront of his henchmen and made them laugh at him, he will make good on his threat without any doubt.

I squeaked and climbed further up when I saw him move forward, "You're just mad I made your friends laugh at you!" Yes, sadly I did say that at the face of my brother's wrath. I was daring like that. "Like you targeted me when you were making moony eyes at Ashara! Now you know how I felt!"

My tiny limbs weren't fast enough, I realized that when he caught me by my ankle. "Moony eyes!?" He was still shouting. "You better shut up Lia before I throttle you!"

I should have realized my brother would soon be out for my blood since I kept on providing fodder for his companions with which they could tease him to Hades and beyond. Sigh* should have kept my mouth shut, I suppose.

I clung to a branch for dear life but he easily plucked me from the tree, strong and tall that he was, and quite easily. I was always small as a child, as in short not gangly. I was very chubby and people never let me forget that. He ran his eyes on Benjen's briches and shirt that I wore, his mouth tightened further. He dropped me on the ground on my bottom. I didn't even wince before he had me by my arm and made me get up. "What the hell are you wearing? How many times do we have to tell you that you shouldn't wear boys' clothing? Look at you!" He shook me hard, "All unkempt and filthy, like a ragamuffin!" He leaned down to my eye level and I deepened my scowl. "You're a girl Lia do what girls do!" He didn't have to cover his embarrassment by hurting me. But he did, with whatever he could manage. But as I said about whenever I was cornered. An eye for an eye.

I snarled like a wildling, "What? Tumble in the hay with you? Like Wylla?" In my own anger's haze, my young mind didnt realize Bran's suddenly burgeoning fury. From the periphery I saw my brother Ned move closer to us. "I know you're stealing from old man Reed. I heard you talk to her about the cock which you lied was yours!" All the boys except my brothers sputtered with boisterous laughter. So far gone was I in my affliction over losing the image that I had of my brother that I didn't know what I was even saying. I heard my brothers talk to each other like that all the time. What was I to do but learn from the people which I thought I was suppose to follow. Not to be conceited, but I was smart beyond my years and a fast learner. I learned by example as any other child would. Since I didn't have a Lady to supervise me and let me observe her mannerism, I had to opt to follow my brother's footsteps.

I didn't see the slap coming nor did I anticipate the ringing in my ears or the laughter that died down immediately.

"Snarling little bitch." He hissed with contempt. His eyes looked so cold.

I opened my mouth to retaliate with my sharp tongue but he slapped me again. Harder this time. I swayed on my tiny feet and felt the explosion of pain on the entire side of my face. Tears welled up in my eyes. I tried to urge them away as I was aware of all the eyes on me. That was probably the first time the young lords present there thought that Lyanna Stark was not worth any respect and her pride was inconsequential. My own brother made them think that. My younger self didn't realize it, for I was only focusing on stopping my tears and thinking why would my hero do that to me.

"Christ man, she's a young lady." I faintly heard one of them say. While Ned, my second brother came closer still and pushed Bran, who was huffing like an enraged bull, away from me.

"Bran, she's only 6 and our little sister!" Ned hissed in a low voice. Why he bothered to tell Bran that, I didn't understand but I was sure even then that had it been Ashara Dayne he never would have raised a hand. No gentleman would. My little world crashed down that day and only I heard the mayhem. Bran actually did that? To me? He was the viscount Wolfraine and he used to call me his little wolf cub. I knew he was changing since after he went away for school. Perhaps when he realized his status among his peers and his influence, he decided he should be loved as his due? Without him reciprocating any affection? No matter what my theory regarding his changed demeanor, it happened. Sort of overnight too as I was still reeling from the proof.

Bran laughed bitterly and looked over Ned's shoulder at me. "Lady? Ha. What a goddamned joke. Did you hear her manner of speech? Little troll embarrassed me in front of everyone!" Ned squeezed his shoulder at the expletive in silent rebuke.

"Her manner of speech?" One of them drawled after my brother stopped yelling, I couldn't recognize who, as I clung to Ned's leg, biting my lip to fight back tears. "I wonder where she learns it from, Stark."

Bran angerily pointed at him, "Keep your nose out of where it doesn't belong, little finger."

Turning from Bran, Ned faced me. I couldn't see his face as my vision swam with unshed tears. One or two of them treacherously rolled down my heated cheeks but I quickly wiped them with my sleeve and clenched my jaw tightly and stared back with a rigid spine.

"Lia," his voice sounded strained as well, " come with me."

I didn't want to go with him. Didn't want to see anyone of them ever again. I proved just that as I pushed his hands away and ran from there. Away from traitorous brothers and their jeering friends.

"See? You all have spoiled her rotten."

Away from hurt.

I disappeared behind the trees but not before I heard one of the cronies say, "Whose cock did you put in the wench, Bran? Your gamekeeper's?"

To which my brother grumbled, "Shut your fucking mouth. I should have thrashed the chit more for saying that in front of company."

He didn't even feel remorse that he had hurt me.

I reached my pony, Winter Rose, and tried to climb her but fell everytime. I was blinded by tears and my brother's harshness still rung in my ears. To be thoroughly chastised for the first time is a memorable experience as well as a confusing one. So the next time I slid off Winter, I stayed on the ground and folded myself around my knees and let the tears fall. After a long time when I decided my eyes were dry enough i raised my head and saw a boy sitting in front of me, the same way as I was. I never met Old man Reed's boy before but I knew it was him as his father loved to talk about "his youngest lad". I remembered his name, Howlland Reed. His sad face made me cry again but I held his eyes out of sheer will.

"What?" I sniffed.

"I seen everythin', Lady." I saw he had been holding a shabby handkerchief, waiting for me to finish crying.

"So?" Trying not to break down at the face of his sympathy with bravado, I snapped at him, "Did you eavesdrop?" I remember I learned this word that day from my brother, along with other things, "You want me to tell Papa and kick your Papa out?"

His big blue eyes flinched a bit, "Why'd you do that? I wasna cruel to you."

I didn't have an answer for him, "So? You're saying I should tell on my brother? He's a viscount, you know. He'll be spared but not you, because you're a commoner."

"I know." Bless his little soul, he just nodded in acquiesce.

"You're just the lousy gamekeeper's boy." I sneered at his sage eyes which flashed with hurt before he lowered them on the ground and started running his finger in the dirt. He didn't make a sound.

Shame pooled deep in me and colored my chubby cheeks. Here was a person ready to wipe my tears, sit on the ground with me and offered his wordless warmth and comfort. All that without even knowing me. All that while listening to my jibes. He looked of my age and i was sure he was also a victim of my brothers' superior airs paired with their cruelty. Maybe he seeked companionship with me that day, after feeling a kinship to my pain? I stared at his dusty britches and worn shoes. His gangly frame was covered in a faded shirt which may have seen better days. His short dark brown hair was untamed like mine, but mine was very long thus looked more unseemly. He looked like a smaller and younger version of our game keeper.

I saw rather than hear him sniffle covertly as he wiped his nose with the back of his hand. He was crying. I made him cry.

I launched myself at him without caring that I too had tears running freely down my cheeks . He looked up, frightened and tried to cower back with his arms ready to shield himself. Later he told me he thought I was going to hit him. He wouldn't have even tried to fight back but just let me be done with him. I hugged him. Clung to him and sobbed obnoxiously while repeating, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. Please don't hate me. I apologize."

Slowly his rigid body relaxed and he started petting my hair like old Nan, "There, there. Hush now. It's alright." It took me a moment to realize that he even used Nan's exact words. I leaned back, while still on my knees and chuckled with my wet face. "You sound like Nan."

He grinned, his nose was still red and his eyes still looked moist, "I saw Nan sayin' that to you. My Da said I wasna allowed to make ya cry and if I saw the lady cry I was to treat you all sweet like. Like how Nan had dun it." He rubbed the inside of his elbow on his eyes and again smiled at me.

"Lady?" I tilted my head.

"You. You're mi'lady." He casually leaned to wipe my tears with that handkerchief as if he had done it so many times. He froze when he realized how presumptuous it might seem. His tiny face became wary as he tried to hand me the kerchief. "Sorry" he mumbled and broke my heart again.

"No. I am sorry. I said bad things to make you go away and hurt you." Fresh tears sprung in my eyes, "I didn't mean it. I heard my brothers say that about your Papa. Please forgive me, Sir." I used my most genuine apology which made him smile.

"Sir? Like a knight?" He stood up and struck a regal pose. Quickly forgetting the subject at hand.

I frowned at him, "Yes. But I said what I say to Papa whenever I have been exceptionally naughty." I was a little bit proud I didn't stutter once with the big word.

Now it was his turn to frown, "Like really really naughty?"

"Yes." I sighed.

"I bet he's ne'er cruel to you. Da says Lord Winterfell is a great man." He again puffed his chest, "I wanna be a knight just like him."

"My father is a Marques not a knight." I pointed out helpfully thinking he should wish to be a Marques rather than a mere knight, as Brandon once called one of his rivals.

He dropped his imaginary sword and looked sheepish, "I canna be a Marques, milady. I was born a commoner."

I thought he took my words too much to heart to even change his aspirations, I stood up too. "I'm so sorry I said it. You can be a marques too, if you want."

"No milady. Da told me too. I canna change mi birth but I can be brave and become a knight."

"'My' birth." I corrected patiently like how Nan did.

"Huh?"

" 'I CAN NOT change MY birth'. I think knights speak properly too." I explained like a good little know-it-all.

"Oh" he smiled bashfully and repeated correctly.

"What else?" He asked.

"Sorry?" I tried to use my untried manners. Had it been my brother I would have snapped a "what?". But I liked he wanted to learn from me and I had the influence to help him learn more.

He grinned, " What else does a knight do?"

We spent the afternoon listing and playing out all what a knight does. I switched from being the damsel in distress to becoming a knight myself. He became a villain when I told him to, a dragon if I insisted and even a wonderful lady's maid- making me fall in a fit of giggles. The one time I became a damsel was at his only bashfully heartfelt request. Just once. Even that to make me something I secretly wished to be or wanted to become when I grow up.

We played to our hearts' desire until we were tired and sweaty. Then when we took a reprieve to catch our breaths, lying on the warm grass and gazed at the trees above, I turned my head to ask him, "Do you really think I'm a lady?"

His answering smile creased his flushed cheeks, "You've always been milady."

The fascination to spend time with my 16 year old brother and his friends from Eton, shriveled into resentment that day. As I said, I was a fast learner. Once burned, twice shy. I never looked forward to seeing my once hero anymore but only to see my real knight. My best friend. My confidant. My make-believe lady's maid. Brother of my heart if not blood. Maybe that day marked the end of any affiliation I had for my brothers but it was also the day of advent of a beautiful friendship.

* * *

When I sneaked back home with WinterRose, I was tiptoeing to my room when I heard the laughter and camaraderie of the boys which made me freeze and hide in the shadows until they were out of sight. God but iwas cowering in my own home. As the last one of them entered the green parlor, I sighed with relief and stepped out.

"I knew I saw something lurking in the shadows." A voice called which made me jump and squeak abominably. I whirled to the source and saw one of Ned's friends. None other than, Robert Baratheon. I shouldn't be surprised he saw me from within the shadows. Only Robert Baratheon could do that.

"You frightened me." I whispered as soon as I found my voice.

He smiled, "I apologize." Not looking apologetic one bit.

"You don't mean it." I stared with narrowed eyes quickly forgetting my adoration.

"No, I didn't." He chuckled and came towards me. Robert Baratheon didn't walk or stride or even strut. He swaggered. His was that graceful loselimbed gait that oozed confidence and attested to his cocksure personality. "Because then I might not have witnessed how adorable you look, little Lia."

"Only my family calls me Lia."

"What about friends?"

I averted my eyes in embarrassment and mumbled, "Don't have any." For some reason i didnt mention Howlland to him. Although i was a chatter box when it came to somthing new, i just didn' an older boy who was admired everywhere he went was speaking to me in an amicable manner was enough to floor me. I didn't have the presence of mind to articulate a proper conversation. The day's embarrassment was still fresh on my mind, thinking that he witnessed all that, was humiliating. I tried to edge away in a similar childish fashion but he stepped closer still.

" I admired how you fought back to your brother."

"I didn't do that I was soundly thrashed."

"Oh?" He chuckled again then stared some more and bit his lip while thinking, "Did you really hear your brother talk to the maid like that?"

I ducked my head and nodded.

"Do you know what he meant while talking to her?" He softly asked.

I shook my head.

He stayed silent and then murmured almost in sympathy,"Pity that. It would have been quite charming if you did."

I raised my head then and looked at him flabbergasted, "How come? Bran slapped me for even saying that." I shook my head while thinking, "Who knows what he would have done if I knew what he meant."

"Only because he's your brother."

"You don't mind? You're not angry?" I blinked wide eyed.

"Heavens no. I loved and enjoyed everything you said."

"But... But you're Ned's friend."

"And?" He drawled.

"You're like a brother too." I hastened to explain.

"I thought that too." He regarded me seriously, "Not anymore."

I felt my lower lip quiver, "You don't wish to be my brother because of what I did? I know it."

He stepped closer still and ran his thumb on my lip, "No, mia Lia. I don't wish to be your brother." Now I am sure he practiced that smooth line on a maid or two just to impress her with his Lordship's Italian heritage or just to see if he can beguile a female yet or not. A boy on the cusp of manhood...what else is he to do?

"Why not?" I couldnt hide my dismay. I was too young to understand flirting. I'm sure I didn't even know the word then. Most of the time his words seemed like gibberish to me.

He looked slightly exasperated, "Apparently because you're too young" That was true. He lightly pinched my left cheek, his lips curled at chubbiness, "You're so soft." He whispered. He looked in my eyes again.

"I'm older than Ben."

He smirked, "I know you are, tesoro. But don't you think you have enough brothers?"

"Then, friends?" I inquired hesitantly.

"Certainly. Why not? Let's start with that and later we'll see how this goes on." He leaned down and kissed both of my cheeks and then lightly touched his lips on mine. I quickly stumbled back and covered my mouth and stared at him wide eyed. At that moment I didn't want 'this' to go anywhere.

My childish mind could not comprehend why an older boy would kiss me. I heard a time or two Ashara and Allyria talk about wanting to kiss a certain son of a certain duke. I was uncertain for a long time who. Or my brother's friends. But I was sure Brandon too because whenever they came to visit me they would only ask and talk about the Dashing Viscount Wolfraine. I indulged them and waxed poetic about my eldest brother proudly. I didn't look deep into their exchanged glances and mysterious smiles until Bran decided one day to join us. He saw who I was with and stayed because he liked what he saw. He made them smile and giggle at my expense which was unnecessary really since they started making those noises at the sight of him. He cooed at them softly and won them over charmingly. But I? I found the spectacle disgusting and became even more so when I removed myself from the room and my so-called friends didn't even notice my absence. For their future visits I told our butler Luwin that I never wanted to see them again. From then on I hated everything they liked on principle alone.

I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand and scowled at him. "Don't do that! I don't like it." Then mumbled while rubbing my mouth "Disgusting."

His face darkened at my action, "You, little piggy, find my kiss disgusting?"

I felt the tips of my ears tingle with chagrin. He was Robert Baratheon. I should have happily accepted his kisses and be grateful for his friendship when even my brothers humiliated me. But he looked so domineering that it scared me. "No. I'm just... Well ..." I stammered raking my mind for proper words.

He grated, "You're what?"

I bit my lip and shifted from foot to foot- wishing he was being missed. That someone would call for him. No such luck. So I had to share my insecurity with the object of my childhood admiration? I wasn't ready to do that nor was i going to be able to. I ducked my head again and said what first came to my mind, "I don't know what to think. Just let me go, Sir." My voice getting faint with every word. When he said nothing, I chanced a glance up in his eyes. They regarded me with an intense, narrow and calculating stare.

Since his face was blank I couldn't gauge his reaction but then he nodded and looked at me in a patronizing manner. "Of course you're nothing like those Dayne Misses." Ouch. I already knew i wasnt. I thought then that he shared more than his looks with Bran. "But I thought you would appreciate my attention. I suppose I was wrong. You're just a silly little girl after all."

He turned and made his way towards the parlor without a backward glance- leaving me with a muddled mind. I frowned and shook myself out of a Robert Baratheon induced stupor and dashed upstairs to find Nan and have her clean me up before father could see.

* * *

"What happened to your face, lamb?" Nan shrieked the moment I entered my room.

After the time I spent playing with Holland I forgot about my stinging cheeks. But of course nothing escaped Nan's sharp eye. I absently ran my pudgy fingers on one of my cheeks.

"I asked you something, Layanna Elizabeth Stark! You answer me right now!" I'll give you a hint about how I was taught my full name and could never forget it.

I rolled my eyes at her dramatics. Had we been outside, I would have been frantic to keep her quiet. Since my father couldn't hear I left her to shriek in my wake as I walked to the mirror while taking off my clothes.

Woah my cheek was red and blue. I examined it closely and I remember being sad that it wouldn't leave a battle scar. Nan knelt beside me and gently turned me to face her worried face.

"You would not tell it even to your old Nan, Lia?"

I grasped her shoulders and managed a smile, "There's nothing to tell Nan. It'll disappear." Then I became uncertain myself, "Right?"

"Aye." She gently proded on my flesh and examined it herself all the while frowning. "I'll get some ice."

"Nan?" I bit my lip, "I don't want to go down and let Papa see this."

She stared with that assessing look but finally nodded. "Alright."

I quickly entwined my arms around her and whispered, "Thank you."

For the next 4 days I managed to evade everyone, except Nan, Luwin and Howlland. Nan, because I simply could not. Luwin because when Nan asked ice for my use he stormed into my room frantic, just asked "Who?", to which Nan answered with " Who else." I swear even today i don't know how they knew. And Howlland because I seeked him purposely. He made me forget about that day and fussed at me, more so with the passage of time. When I asked Nan why father doesn't miss me she placated me with something about too many young boys and keeping me hidden. I accepted that and didn't miss anyone myself as Howlland kept me occupied.

Icing and the herbal balm helped with the swelling and the bruising. The day when Nan declared it's hardly noticeable that I was ever slapped, earning a bewildered look from me, I decided to finally visit my Papa.

After an hour of vigorous scrubbing and a tear jerking hair unentangling, I was dressed in a frilly dress with my hair left free down my back. That was because I ran from Nan when she turned her back on me to get my shoes. I ran in my socks towards my father's library and skittered to a halt outside of the door and just barged in. I found my father as I knew how I will. Buried elbow deep in paper work and account everything scattered across the grand table, his dark head was bent in concentration over a particular ledger.

I marched right in leaving the big Oak doors open behind me .

"Papa!" I always greeted my father like that.

Without looking up he instructed, "Not now Lyanna, I'm very busy."

Not to be deterred, I crossed my chubby arms over my chest and huffed out a breath. Waiting. Finally he sighed in submission, dropped his work and dragged back his chair to present me his lap with a harassed look. I smiled huge, somehow after managing to climb up I perched myself comfortably on him and hugged him tight, "Good evening, Papa."

I knew I had him when even his forced frown melted away into warmth as he hugged me back, "Good evening, my flower." He kissed my hair. It reminded me of Robert Baratheon's kisses, but I liked Papa's. They reminded me of the warm greenhouse and sweet hot chocolate.

 _'...little piggy...'_

He was right, I needed to stop eating too much. I don't think Allyria drank hot chocolate 2 times a day. Ever. I sighed in dismay making my father to notice.

"Why such sad sighs, sweetheart?" He asked in amusement. "And what have you been doing these past few days? I hardly ever saw you."

I started. I didn't know if I should tell him I wish to boycott my love for hot chocolate because then I was sure he'd ask what gave me the idea and then I would have to regale my interlude with Robert Baratheon and when he called me a piglet. My indecision might have been playing out on my face because he looked more closely and asked, "What's going on in there?" while touching my forehead.

"Oh you know, this and that." I once heard a maid give the same evasive answer to Luwin and got away with it. I hoped I could too.

It made my father chuckle, "Indeed?" He affectionately ran his hand in my soft and long tresses. Crisis averted.

"Mm hmm." I nodded seriously. I couldn't lie directly to my father. I did however omit things which might have proved unsavory. Then I remembered the reason to disturb him today. "Oh! I completely forgot. Papa I met a new friend the other day. He is of my age but shorter than me. He is my knight now." I beamed with enthusiasm.

"Truly?" He asked impressed.

"Yes! He looks just like old man Reed."

"Lyanna." He rebuked mildly.

I smiled sheepishly, "Pardon, Sir. Mr. Reed." He nodded to urge me to go on.

"He told me Mr. Reed thinks you're a great man." Even while telling him my tiny chest puffed up with pride which told him that I agreed wholeheartedly. "Why does he think that, Papa?"

"He does? And you don't?" He teased.

"Of course I do but you know, I'm your daughter. I must think that."

He chuckled wryly, "I'm sorry that you must..."

I cut in with, "Don't be, it's my duty to love you."

He stopped. Then, "I think Mr. Reed is a great man too. He once saved your Papa's life."

"Really? When?" I gasped.

"Yes, sweetheart, and when I served in His Majesty's army. He was my batman." At my confused face he added, "Like what John is now." He was father's valet.

"Why isn't he now?"

"Ah well, he thought he was getting too old to shine my Hessians every night." When I opened my mouth he knew what I was going to say. "No you may not call him 'Old man Reed' because of that." I pouted at that. "Don't you love your Papa?" He waited for my nod. "Then respect the one whom your father does too, Lyanna. In return of saving my life, and quite heroically, he asked for nothing in return, but a request to live his retirement in peace. I offered him the gamekeeper's job at Winterfell. And besides isn't he always kind to you?" I nodded again, "Then return his kindness."

I thank God everyday, that I was blessed with such a wise father. Who took it upon himself to start imparting his knowledge to his children, whether they were recipient or not, at an early age. I also realized that just because my brother looked like my father doesn't mean he was like him. Not even close.

"My knight also said he wants to be a knight just like you. Although I told him you're a Marques of Winterfell. He said he cannot be a Marques since he's a commoner." I barely managed to hide my flinch at those words. "Why can't he be a Marques, Papa?"

"He was right because you have to be born into the title and inherit it from your father. Like I did from your Grandfather and Bran will after me."

"I don't want him to become one." I muttered impetuously.

"And why not?"

I looked at him as if he was addlebrained, "Because then you'll be gone."

"Will you miss your Papa, poppet?" He gave me one of his small warm smiles.

"Of course. Because then..." I stopped and buried my head in his strong chest. I also missed him nodding at someone over my head.

"Then what?"

My voice my muffled in his shirt but I know he understood, "Because then I'll be all alone."

He pulled back and stared at me with a severely thoughtful look, "Everyone has to go one day, flower. Do you not wish for me to meet your Mama again?" He said slowly as if he has to decide something after gauging my reaction. As if to prepare me if anything ever happened to him. Because I remember after that moment on, he always managed to mention the same thing at least once every week.

"She left me too." My voice my sullen.

"With me and Bran and Ned And Ben and Nan." He tickled me on my neck making me squeal loudly with laughter.

"And... And Luwin and Mrs. Ashley and WinterRose." I added while giggling.

My father smiled, "Yes, and they will remain with you and love you even when I'll leave."

Still flushed after being tickled, I grinned at him and ignored the pang I felt at his words, "Papa, I love you."

"I love you more."

"I love you morest!"

* * *

As it turned out my father nodded for Ned to come in along with his friends. We both turned to look when Ned cleared his throat. "Sir, my friend Dragaestone, wishes to prolong his stay with us and leave for school with me when our holidays end."

My eyes strayed to Robert Baratheon and saw a faint smile playing on his handsome face as he looked back. The last days were suppose to be the final days of his stay. Then Ned was supposed to leave with him to his country house, along with the rest of my brothers' friends.

He was the epitome of proprietary when he felt my father and Ned turn to look at him. He quickly blanketed his face and stepped forward, " I do not wish to impose on your hospitality, my lord but I hope that you would consider my request."

"It's not a bother dear boy, but what about your family? Surely they too wish to spend some time with you." Papa asked while scratching his chin. I touched his chin too fascinated by his bristled shave and then touched my baby smooth one. Papa stopped to smile at me. I smiled back. I observed that Robert Baratheon witnessed the exchange with a soft wistful look as he murmured, "I believe they shall hardly notice my absence, Sir." He looked a little uncomfortable, "My father decided to travel again to the continent."

"Well then. It's settled already. You're always welcome my boy. Let me just send a missive to your father immediately. I too think Stormend would not mind my harboring his heir." He joked while clearing his desk and nodding in dismissal at the boys.

"Lia, now I really must ask you to leave Papa. As I have more work to do now." He set me down and I decided to find Howlland. "And wear some shoes, Lyanna!" He shouted behind my back. I ran with a smile to do just that, which immediately died when I saw Brandon coming towards me, glued on the either side with a Dayne witch, and his entourage following closely behind. He smiled in an affectionate way, which I think only I knew was fake, "Ah, there you are pretty poppet. Look who I just bumped into? Your friends have come to call upon you." It was a subtle way to make me sit and stay in the drawing room to chaperone them. Maybe the ladies insisted because they were starimg at me pleadingly.

"Oh"

A good sister and a proper young lady would keep up a polite and sweet facade for the world, even when she was slighted by her brother in the most horrendous ways. I took a breath and funny enough even in my turmoil, remembered Nan telling me about "Forgive and Forget". I managed a slight smile, praying it doesn't look too forced and made a show of looking at my shoeless feet and shouted, " Luwin!" I suppose he remembered my request from last time because he immediately appeared infront of me.

I should be the better person. I will be. I looked at Bran's smug face. 'But not today'.

"Luwin, kindly tell " my" guests that I am indisposed right now and cannot entertain them today." I added a deprecating chuckle "Funny I don't remember inviting anyone." With emphasis on all the right places I repeated my father's words which I once heard when our neighbor, a wastrel Baron came to call. I managed to swipe all smiles save one, Robert Baratheon's. Luwin's could not be called a smile but a mere lip twitch on his bland face.

Bran meant to take a step towards me but Luwin straightened to face them and very indiscreetly shielded me. "Unfortunately, Misses Dayne "your friend" is indisposed and sends her regrets." I appreciated his added touch and more than usual snobbish voice.

I peered from behind his leg when my brother laughed awkwardly with barely suppressed anger, "Lyanna always had a peculiar sense of humor. Children, you know? Silly creatures with everything taken as a new form of play." He smiled charmingly at the ladies. My heart clenched thinking, he couldn't even spare a kind word for me with whom he shares his blood and who hero worshipped him ever since she could remember, while fed those girls- who have a different favorite gentleman every week- such sugared words and goes out of his way to make them smile. "Luwin's just indulging her childish whims. He knows his place."

I was going to leave after that. Dramatically of course. Complete with a sniff an an arrogant hair toss. But I. Just. Could. Not. Especially not after that dig at Luwin.

"Yes, he is." I tried for nonchalance for a 6 year old, it worked if Bran's tightened features were any indication. "But I'm not joking." I glided towards the stairs, Luwin right beside me. See? As if he magically knew Bran would not shy back from resorting to force if need be. I always thought Nan and Luwin had magic, appearing when needed, saying what i wanted to hear to calm down and knowing what was wrong. I climbed halfway up but whirled around to loudly address my accomplice.

"Oh and Luwin, please tell Miss Ashara I heard Bran tell his cronies she has a nice set of tits."

"Lyanna!" I ignored Bran's roar, the girls' scandalized gasps and sprinted to my room all the while giggling.

* * *

I waited till I heard the unmistakable sounds of a leaving carriage and galloping horses, when I unlocked my door and ventured out. I was skipping to the Library when a hand reached out of the curtain of my favorite window seat and pulled me inside. I shrieked but it was muffled by a hand. I frantically tried to scratch my attacker when I was deposited to the side facing... Robert Baratheon? I stopped my banshee act and cocked my head in confusion. He removed his hand with a chuckle. "I was hoping I could find you. Imagine my luck when my rabbit came skipping unknowingly towards my trap." He smirked.

I just glared while he examined and piched my cheeks and then sullenly decreed, "You are a bad person. You scared me. You always do."

"I'm sorry Mia Lia." He cajoled while mirroring my pout, "But you know I couldn't..."

"I know, I know. 'Couldn't resist'." I finished for him with a scowl. He laughed and leaned to kiss my pout but I evaded him with a harried look. What can I say? I didn't grow old in a week to appreciate kissing and intimacy. He slowly straightened and bit his lip in thought. He always did that.

"I didn't see you for the last 4 days, Lia. Were you evading me?" He sounded angry but cautious. Like talking to a favorite puppy who has been exceptionally naughty.

"You were angry with me." I looked at him with raised eyebrows and settled against the far wall while sitting Indian style on the cushion.

"I was. Very much. I thought to punish you but you vanished and inadvertently punished me instead." He ran a hand in his fashionably cut thick black hair.

"I did?"

He just smiled at me then looked down at his book and shook his head.

"Tell me." I cradled my face in my hands and couldn't help but smile. The 'Robert Baratheon' said I punished him! I wanted to know how.

His lips twitched, "Little minx." I scowled at him. He had a very bad habit of calling me names.

His blue eyes stared intensely at me then settled on the small wrinkle I know always formed between my brows whenever I scowled or frowned. "I'll tell you if you let me kiss away this adorable fold." His finger touched me there.

I rolled my eyes and sighed in exasperation, "Oh, alright." My resigned tone made him smile and I realized I liked it. After how he looked in the library, I wanted to do that more often. I leaned my head forward. He was acting like a child really. I remember harassing Nan to let me hold little Ben and rain kisses on his cute little face.

But he said, "Come closer."

"No, thank you I'm fine. Just do it."

Now he scowled, "You don't have to make it sound like a chore."

I looked at him and patiently said, "Then don't make it a chore." Then smiled impishly at his stern face.

His nostrils flared and he snatched me up from the cushions and kissed me on my forehead and then on my right cheek , where his lips lingered untill I pushed him back at an arm's length and scolded, "You said one."

"I was making sure if I saw your cheek make a dimple or not." The devil. I knew he did not.

"Well?" I prompted while sitting back.

"It does. Almost in the middle of your right one."

"Not that." I snapped. Honestly, that boy was denser than Bran. "What did I do?"

He leaned against the wall behind him. He sat with his right leg folded on the cushions while the left one was stretched at his side on the floor. "It was my last week and I couldn't find you. I had to extend my stay here hoping to see you more."

"You stayed for me?" I asked bewildered.

"Yes. Doesn't that please you?"

"I don't know. You don't even know me."

He laughed, "Do you even know what I'm going to make you become?"

"Oh I have to answer. I don't know. What?."

"Mine."

"Your what?" I threw my hands in the air with frustration, "And you've got that silly look on your face again, while ordering. Papa says we should always request someone, no matter their age, gender or station."

He frowned at me, "Perhaps I'm not giving you a choice."

I looked at him, hassled, "I don't understand what you're saying. Make sense!"

"That's because you're too young now. You will one day."

"You're not that old either, Robert Baratheon. You're 14 and still a boy." I admonished while pointing at his chest. He looked annoyed when I called him a boy.

He grabbed my hand and tightly clenched his fingers around my tiny wrist. I had to bite my lip to stop myself from wincing . "I'm not a boy. And you won't be a little girl for long. I just don't want you to ever forget me or that what I told you." He released the bruising pressure but pulled me forward and flattened my hand on his bigger one and stared at our hands.

"I think I already belong to my Papa." I told him hesitantly. Now just wishing to get away from him.

"You're his daughter." He grumbled.

"Then what do I have to do as yours?" I finally asked. "Will you make me brush down your horse and polish your shoes?"

He raised my hand, " With these little hands? "

When I nodded, he kissed my soft palm and promised, "Never."

"Then?" I was losing my patience. To have sat there and converse with him was in itself a proof of my self control. No child could sit patiently and try to decipher a pubescent boy's riddled words. It was distressing and boring.

"You have to let me kiss and hold you whenever or wherever I want. You have to write me letters and wait for mine. Accept whatever gift I give you with a smile."

"That's it? It's just like friendship, no?"

"Do you let your friends kiss you?"

I scrunched my nose in distaste, "No. That would be horrid."

"Yes. You'll only accept mine." He gave me tiny kisses all over my face, making me giggle. He smiled holding me against the crook of his elbow, "Liked that, did you?"

"I think I did that to Ben when he was a baby. They're like how Papa kisses me. I like it." I grinned up at him.

"Good."

He placed me beside him and held me with one arm. He handled me like I was his personal doll.

"What if I want to give you a gift? Are you mine too?"

After such a long time, every now and then still when I think about that moment, I remember that he never really answered me. I should have anticipated even then that I was meant to be a forever kind of secret or worse.

* * *

Six days of hidden kisses and curious words later, Robert Baratheon left Winterfell for school with my brother Eddard.I enthusiastically waved in goodbye when they sat in the carriage. He just smiled conservatively and waved once then ignored me. It saddened me how inconsequential I seemed to him while my heart had just started budding strong affiliation for him. He was silly in his boyish charm and made me smile every time we were alone. It reminded me how Bran made Ashara laugh. And his persistence made me feel special. I basked under his regard in those moments.

I avoided Bran ever since that Dayne debacle and deliberately got myself lost with Howlland when he was leaving.

"I wish he spends his next holidays away from here."

Howlland looked up from his sword, "Who? I thought ya' liked Robert Baratheon."

"Not him he promised to come back again." Howlland smiled at that. "Bran. I don't want him to come back."

"Dun say it, milady. He still your brother." He came to kneel in front of my scowling face. "I think good lady knights let it go and ignore." He tapped my sword with his, "An' so does you."

" 'So shall you' ", The correction came naturally.

We were playing with sticks while imagining them as legendary swords, like we always did, when I first thought about wanting to learm how to fence. I shared it with Papa. After a little hesitation he agreed to let me, if I would start my lessons with a new governess and promise to behave. I pointed out it was Ben who had cut the last one's braid. He retaliated with how I made him do that. I pouted at him while he waited. Finally when he didn't budge I compromised, because I promised Howlland I'll teach him fencing too after every lesson.

One day Howlland and I were playing by the creek as usual when I met my new governess.


	2. Prologue II

"Sir Reed! Look beyond that tree! The dragon has awakened!" I screamed at Howlland and then went to play the role of the said dragon. "Rawr!"

"Dun fear not, Sir Stark."

"Sir Lady Stark." I corrected while rolling my eyes, " And just 'Fear not', Howwie."

"Yeah, yeah" he nodded while grinning. I made a show of widening my eyes and point behind him.

"Watch out!" I shouted

He spun around and I took the opportunity to pounch on his back. We were still giggling on the ground when I heard a twig snap. I jumped to my feet. "Who's there?", I demanded while pointing my stick in that direction.

"It's just I, Sir Lady Stark." Came a female voice.

Howwie and I grinned at each other. Whoever that was, she wanted to play along.

I called out again, "Come forward so I may see you, my lady."

I heard a swish of starched skirts before the person came out. She was thin. Very much so. With clear yet slightly tan skin and beautiful black eyes. Her ebony curls were knotted on top of her head making her look so elegant that my mouth dropped open in awe as I gaped at her. Slowly my sword lowered.

"You're very pretty." I whispered.

Her young face smiled kindly, "Thank you but so are you."

I saw Howlland nod from the corner of my eye. I ducked my head bashfully, "No I'm not. Knights aren't called pretty."

That lady had the kind of presence which engendered kindness and gentleness around her. Even in her simplicity she resembled a princess. For the first time I felt my inadequacy as a girl.

I dropped the dirty stick and wiped my hands on my britches. "Who are you?"

Her smile dimmed a little but not completely at my action. She came forward and knelt, "Who do you wish me to be?" She picked the stick and held it up for me.

I knew she meant to play with me but I wished she and I were related somehow. She was young enough to be my sister, and with all my little heart I wanted a sister just like her.

"My sister." I blurted while wringing my pudgy hands.

Her laughter tinkled around us while she tucked my wayward hair behind one ear, "Truly? But we just met."

Encouraged by her familiar gesture I smile, "You know, Papa always says that sometimes to know someone a look is enough."

"What does my look say?"

Suddenly bashful again I murmured, "That you'll be kind to me."

She stared a little and I think she rummaged her mind how to reply best to a child. And Nan always said that only the wise think before they speak.

"I shall endeavor to meet your expectations, little knight." She took a leaf out of my hair. "And if I ever disappoint your trust, please be kind to me as well." Another smile.

As if I could ever be disappointed with her. I looked at her dubiously, "Are you staying with anyone from around?"

She stood up, "Oh I hope so, and Godwilling could leave with some hair still on my head." She looked askance while dusting her skirts.

I looked at her in confusion, "Who are you?" And asked again.

"Sister, friend, fellow lady knight or even a teacher. Would you like that? To learn from me?"

"You're the new governess?" I was aghast. "You can't be. Governesses are old and mean women. And they're also fat like me."

"Milady, is your luck it is."

"Shhh. Let me talk Howwie." I gave him a look.

When I looked back at her she was looking over Howie's head while frowning. "And who is this Howie?"

I sighed, "He's Mr. Reed's youngest lad of my age but he's thin and very short." In nodded in his direction.

"Hey!" He interjected.

I ignored him, "And I know he's too short to notice at first but it's rude to look over someone." I crossed my arms and frowned at her. What can I say? Howwie had been my friend longer.

She blinked with surprise and stared at him, "Hello, Howwie." She greeted hesitantly.

Embarrassed of the way she stared at him he made an awkward wave-like gesture. I laughed and told her he meant to say hello too. When I offered to show her a good place to sit by the creek she immediately agreed. We sat for quite a time talking. Well mostly she was, i just sat beside her and observed and didn't realize I was subconsciously mimicking her. She sat with a ramrod back with her hands softly folded in her lap. I must've looked a picture with my dirty appearance and rugged clothing copying to act like a lady because Howlland kept on snickering.

She told me her name was Elia Martell and surprisingly we were actually related but distantly. She came directly from London where she was living with very close family friends. She spent a season there, which advertently made her explain what it meant. I asked her if she was married to which she chuckled and told me that she going to have her come-out a year later. When I inquired about her age I was stunned to hear she was just 16! But she had completed her necessary education and went to observe the lady, which I imagined was the family friend, who also decided to take Elia under her wing. She couldnt stay longer because of her health. Country air suited her best, she said. When I asked her why she agreed to be my governess she told me that she volunteered when my father mentioned me.

In truth Elia didn't want to burden my father, and wanted to keep herself busy by helping me. She was in a way my honorary governess, and often shared that she felt guilt over the course of my education. She believed she deprived me of a better learning experience from a proper governess. I believed she hung the moon in the sky and saved me from a horrid fate. Which made her laugh and gave her an excuse to teach me about the lunar deities in different cultures.

"So you're really going to help me change?"

"Why would I wish to change you?" Her speech was coaxing.

"Doesn't everyone?"

"I don't." Howlland supplied cheerfully.

"Except for Howwie", I gestured where he sat on the boulder beside me.

Elia again stared at him with a soft smile and decreed, " He seems to be a very wise person."

He preened under the warmth of her praise and my heart swelled with pride. Whenever we were caught playing, he would hide and sometimes, it was even urged by me. Not that I was ashamed of him. Far from it. He was the only good thing that happened to me when I decided to keep my distance from my brothers. I wanted to protect him from any unwarranted cruelty our friendship might've incited. But I introduced him to Elia. Maybe it was a child's trusting nature or a childish intuition I am still unsure but I'm glad it happened. It brought us closer. And nothing says conscientiousness more clearly than sharing a secret.

She was looking at me with an inscrutable gaze, when she uttered the words that stayed with me forever. "If I change who you are, Lyanna, then you wouldn't be what makes you, you."

* * *

"You know, only people with no social life read these kind of books. And I know, only because they make you sleepy so they wouldn't have to talk to other people. " I grumbled after an umpteenth yawn during one of my lessons.

It had been, maybe a full hour, since she asked me to read a chapter and then explain it to her. I was just so bored to simply sit there with a book in my lap. When she didn't reply I slapped it shut with a mutinous pout. Elia then looked up from her book. Her eyes drifted to the closed one in my lap and copied my actions. With , I don't know, a bit more finesse.

"Once upon a time there was an orphan being raised by her relatives. They were not particularly kind with her, neither did her robust nature helped her cause. One day she had been in a particularly severe tussle with her cousin and was sent away to a very strict boarding school without even a single regard to her wishes. She persevered her years in that horrid place and earned an education which was enough to become a governess." She smiled at that. "Immediately after leaving school she applied for a job to make her own way in this world and fortunately enough she acquired one. She arrived there and met someone who changed her life. She ran away when she was going to get married because something intervened at the last moment, leaving her heartbroken." She looked out the window pane at her last sentence.

"She wished every day she could go back and try to understand him." She stopped and kept on staring outside.

I was slumped back before she started the slowly slid on to the edge of my chair while listening. I had never known such people existed. I realize now how much sheltered I was. I couldn't even fathom people could lead miserable lives. I learned later on in life there were people with far more despondency to fill the tragedy section of a library with books of enough pages to fuel the fireplaces of a ducal mansion for life. It was an introduction into the land beyond Winterfell and Elia was my ferryman.

The way Elia narrated it mightve seemed casual enough for an adult, I suppose, but for I - it was fascinating enough to be frustrated when she stopped.

"Who did she meet? Who stopped her marrying?"

"Wedding." She corrected.

"Yes, yes. Where did she run away? Tell me Elia." No matter how hard I pleaded she didn't give in.

She quietly opened her book and started reading again.

"Elia! You're teasing me!"

She replied calmly, "Oh I'm sorry I thought you wanted to know the story."

"I do!" I cried.

"Well what are you waiting for then? It's all in that book on your lap." Just like that she dismissed me and continued reading.

I was smart enough to realize that I had just been taught a lesson and didn't question the wisdom of her actions. I opened that book with new eyes. Anticipation. Curiosity. And hope, that it all ends well for the orphan.

* * *

... _"...Anna. You must leave or I would have to send you to a workshop, girl!"_

 _Anna could scarcely believe her ears. Leave? Where would she go? All her life she's been lead to believe she was all alone with only her books as a refeee...refe...yoo..ref...fudge.j..."_

"How do you pronounce, R. E. F. U. G. E. ?"

"Ref-yooj."

Right. I absently mumbled a 'thank you' and resumed reading.

 _...with only her books as a refuge. She stared in horror as her Aunt's maid threw her pellise by her feet, with a haughty sneer on her horridly cruel face. "Aunt, where will I go?" Anna implored while tears glistened her dark blue eyes..._

I was at a particularly climatic part when unconsciously my eyes strayed to Elia just for a heartbeat while turning the page. I did a double take when I noticed she'd been observing me for a time now. Her book was lying on her lap upside down, only her finger was between the pages she was reading. She had her chin resting on the knuckles of her left hand, with the elbow on the arm of her chair.

I frowned and took in how I was seated. I sat leaning back with my bare feet on the cushion of the chair and my knees bent. I had to lean back so I could put the book on my knees because my fat restricted some maneuvering. Especially my tummy. I thought she was noting my posture or lack of it anyway and quickly dropped my feet on the ground. She just smiled wider.

"What?" I whispered. Not wishing to disrupt our comfortable silence.

She straightened too. "Nothing. I apologize if my staring disturbed you."

"Quite alright." I frowned and hesitantly returned my eyes to my book.

* * *

"Lyanna?" After some time she called me. It seemed that only some moments had passed but in actuality I was later told it had been more than 2 hours.

"Hmm." I made a sound without looking up. When she didn't answer I knew she was waiting for me to look up. So I did.

"It's time for bed."

I gasped, "What? Already?" She nodded and chuckled.

"Oh, alright." I ceded, dejectedly and got up. I carefully placed the book on the table while leaving a blank paper as a bookmark.

She was again staring in that enigmatic way. "Come here, Lia. I wish to tell you something."

When I reached where she sat on the sofa, she urged me to sit beside her, and affectionately ran a hand over my hair. She looked thoughtful.

"Lia I dont know who told you and made you believe that only the socially impaired read books. Which is not true by the by." She gave me a mock frown, making me giggle. "But tell me, beside Howlland, how many other friends do you have?"

I felt my cheeks heat, "None. But I did once. They were girls too but then I found they only came to see me to see Bran."

"Exactly, sweeting. People may disappoint and hurt you when you're most vulnerable. But these..." She ran her slim fingers on the cover of the book on her lap reverently. I was glad she didn't look at me for I was biting my lip to stop the hurt that threatened to overwhelm me as her words brought back all the distressing memories.

"But these never leave your side. They make the hurt go away and make you live so many lives as whatever you want. Soon they become the most trustworthy friends that you could ever ask for. Companions which entertain you selflessly. Books have so much to give without asking anything in return. Did you like your book?"

When I nodded she carried on, "I'm glad. Now, do you have any questions before we go to our beds?"

"Yes. What does 'socially impaired' means?"

* * *

 _Dear Deer! *an inky scribble*_

 _How do you do? I am well. Papa is well. Ben is well. Nan was not well yesterday but she is fine. I caught a fish on Tuesday. I ate it for dinner. Papa said it was yummy I think Nan was sick because of it. She's fine now do not worry. I don't know what else to write. I think about your next gift. *a blot of ink* I liked the box too. I will put Elia's letters in it. Hope to see you soon._

 _Your servant,_

 _Winter Rose._

"But yer not 'is servant, milady." Howlland frowned.

"No, but I saw Papa sign one of his letters like that. I always write this to him and he never said anything about it. So, hush, Howwie."

* * *

Days that I spent with Elia were a blessing in their own way. She came and went as she wasn't exactly obligated to my father regarding my studies but she did take my learning very seriously. She'd bring back new books and stationery for me or sometimes even ribbons. I always bawled whenever she left and only let go of her skirts when father had to pick me up and muscle me away from her. I many times caught glimpses of her tear filled eyes too.

She mostly went because her godmother wanted her next season and her come-out, to be perfect and thus urged Elia's participation in the preparations. She sometimes came back with some of her purchases and would model her dresses for me while I cooed over her elegant beauty.

"Will you take me under your wing for my season?" I asked one day while petting the skirts of her Amber colored silk dress.

She rubbed her arm which I learned was her nervous tick, "I hope I'd be a matron by then."

"Married?" She nodded bashfully in reply.

"You will be." I assured her confidently and set a thin metallic decorative head band on her onix curls.

"How do you know?"

"Because anyone would be a fool to let you go."

She also urged me to write her letters, which I did everyday, and presented to my father for post. Which went once a week normally and I'm sure she recieved a fattened package filled with my letters and only smiled, without feeling any sort of annoyance. She was sweet like that. And as expected she kept all my letters as I kept hers. She made me improve my letter-writting by discussing the ones I'd send her.

The smallest of moments with her were made more precious only because they were shared with her and Howwie. She encouraged me to express myself and tell her about my interests. Then she would plan my lessons together with Ben's tutor around those interests. But I only wanted to learn everything she knew and make her proud. She also never called me or my actions silly, fearing that it might suppress my inquisitive tendensies. Lord bless her, but I did do very silly things sometimes. One time we were practicing my letter-writting that I observed something. I immediately enthused.

"Look, Elia. Your name and mine have " Lia", in common!"

E Lia.

Lia anna.

"Your name is not spelled as such, Lyanna."

"Aye. Even I know is wrong that is." Howwies peered over my shoulder.

"I know but it sounds same, no?" My excitement was not to be deterred. It was like another secret but it'll be our little shared joke. I was so happy just thinking about the possibilities.

She looked again and smiled, "Do you know what that means?" We both shook our heads.

"You are the beginning of my end."

* * *

The day I learned how exactly the Martells were related to the Starks was when I met Elia's brothers for the first time. Not that I was surprised when I learned about the animosity between the families, really, there was always some dispute among one family or another. It all began when Elia's mother and my father's sister (yes we were first cousins and not distantly related), eloped with the tall, dark and handsome American who wanted to settle in England.

Little did she know that my uncle was a degenerate and a detestable fortune hunter. What better way to ensure an adjustment to go smoothly than to have powerful in-laws to help you?

When my grandfather disowned her after the debacle, she bid him goodbye and told him what she thought of his money and left Winterfell immediately with her head held high. She did all that under the illusion of love, and when the said love found out he's married a penniless lady, disowned by her family, he started showing his true colors. Kept her under his thumb. Embarrassed her by openly reverting to his philandering ways and paraded one mistress after another right in front of her. True to her blood she didn't come crying back but slept well and without a word on the bed she made for herself.

At some time Dorne started associating with another one of his kind, a wastrel of a duke known for his many scandals, which was a blessing in disguise for my Aunt since she finally found a dear friend in the duchess who shared her plight.

Thus, her status as Elia's godmother. I saw firsthand how much she doted on Elia. I wanted to embrace that lady and thank her for taking care of my cousin ever since Dorne and my Aunt died in a carriage accident a year before my 6th birthday. She died and Father couldn't even attend her funeral and mourn his only sister as Elia's brothers still resented the uncle who didn't come to their mother's aid. Dorne had been victimizing all of his family but especially his wife because she reminded him of a failed plan even if it was conceived in greed, and his children because they were birthed by that wife.

Elia and I were as usual busy in our lessons, that day I remember was all about Roman history. We were reading about Alexander VII and how he conducted the completion of St Peter's by his chief architect Gian Lorenzo Bernini, in the warmth of Papa's library, where he too sat submerged in his paperwork. In the peace of a country afternoon the sound of the gravel under carriage wheels was unmistakable. As well as the sounds of alarm which came inexhaustibly from the main hall.

"Out of my goddamned way, old bat. And you, you whoreson. If you touch me one more time..."

"Oberyn."

The name came as a warning to the voice spewing such vile language but Elia was the one startled by it and stared at the closed door, with her face completely devoid of color.

When father sighed and stood up, her eyes swung to him, "You should have known, Elia, that this day would come. They're actually late."

"You called for them?" She queried with wide eyes.

"It was the right thing to do, my dear. They have a right to know that their sister chose to forgive her uncle and has not been kidnapped." He said it so calmly that I had to crush my want to demand that he repeat himself. "It might have been worst if they heard it from the gossip. Or your godmother."

Uncle? I thought maybe he meant someone else. I was excited to see who was going to enter after such a boisterous entrance.

"I do not wish to see them disrespect you, my lord. I know my brothers. They never learned to forgive and forget from our father." She lowered her lashes in chagrin.

"Hush and let me worry about that, child."

Then suddenly the library doors were swung open and in came a small man-boy with Elia's coloring. He came straight towards her, "You. Do you have any idea how much I want to strangle you?" He shouted right in front of her face. "I rode day and night and got bloody blisters on my bloody ass to prove it!"

"All that bloody coming and going from bloody London to this damned cold place with only AN ABIGAIL?" He panted. He looked funny with his heaving shoulders, harried face and foul mouth.

"What the bloody goddamned fucking hell, Elia?"

Smack.

We were so busy staring at the furious boy-man that we didn't see a taller and manlier version of him coming from behind and hitting him on his head.

"Apologize." Just one word with a world of threat.

His bland face gave me goosebumps.

"For what?" Man-boy who was named Oberyn grumbled while rubbing behind his head.

"For forcefully intruding in someone else's home and shouting obscenities like a fishwife to your older sister's face." His eyes briefly came to me and I offered a crooked smile and a wave.

Holy mother of God. He had Luwin's lip twitch right down pat.

He continued to stare down his brother till Oberyn had to concede, and bow in apology. He first bowed to my father with an exaggerated flourish which of course seemed mocking. Then stiffly to Elia. When he turned to me, ready to bow, but thought better of it and just flicked his fingers in dismissal.

"Hey!" I crossed my arms on my chest and pouted.

Obviously everyone ignored me.

Their elder brother shook hands with Papa in a reserved way followed by everyone taking their seats. I sat with Elia and held her hand. Expressing my support silently.

Doran started with a polite, "I appreciate that you informed us,my lord..."

"After I learned of her elopement, I went to see your mother." Papa always spoke to address the point directly. He said beating about the bush regarding a matter shows a poor attempt at evasion, and evasion is a sign of weakness.

Doran's mouth tightened, "I remember."

"It had been 7 years when I finally returned home only to find my elder sister gone. I decided not to confront her husband and meant to show my support to the match." Papa shook his head sadly. "It had already been so many years and she already had you. At first I didn't even know how to approach her."

"Bloody hell." Oberyn muttered but Doran just shifted in his chair uncomfortably.

"Please let me finish. I've been wanting to say that to you and hoped you would understand my reasons for not seeing my sister after that. Your father threatened to cry being cuckolded and prove you illegitimate. I remember him counting on his fingers the reasons he could procure and divorce my sister. She was sitting right beside me while his mistress served us tea."

Elia was quietly sobbing now. By the way father said it I knew it was someone vile, but I tucked the word mistress in my head to ask Elia later.

"She made me promise to stay away. Practically begged me. And I, helpless in my love for my sister and her future, walked out but never away because I just could not. I watched over her through the shadows. Never far. That fool was in debted to Lannister up till his top hat and that Devil had him dancing to his tune." He meant the very same devil duke. "He meant to sell everything. Everything." Father and Doran exchanged a significant look. "I want you to believe that I never left you, Doran." He used his Christian name as a plea. "Hang my honor. My LOVE didn't allow it."

We all waited for Doran respond to father's supplication. Lord Winterfell, though favoured mostly the country, was a force to be reckoned with. 'Respect is not given freely as someone's due because of the circumstances of one's birth but is earned.' , my father used to say that and I know the respect which instills fear is not earned by pleading and explaing your every action. But my father also used to say and more oftenly, ''Family, my flower, always comes first.'

"He made good on his threat. He pleaded for a trial to question my paternity." Dorne's knuckles were clenched tightly. "Only to make mother miserable. Not that anyone could doubt his blood in me..." He vaguely gestured at his person, "...but someone intervened and frightened the bloody hell out of him."

"I couldn't just sit idle while my sister and nephew were being ruined." Papa quietly confessed.

Elia gasped.

Boy-man jerked in surprise.

Dorne just calmly nodded, "I recently found out. Barrister Selmy told me."

Father laughed out loud, "By God but he's as sly as a fox. I'm darn satisfied he didn't disappoint though, young pup that he is."

"He even cautioned that had he really pursued what you started we wouldn't have been able to stay in England" another lip twitch, this time more pronounced.

Father waved is dismissal, "We would have ceded our bluff had Dorne been more than his usual think headed self."

"That's a relief." I wasn't sure but I think he made a joke. "Yet I wish you had, for I mean to spread my shipping to America."

A peaceful silence fell in the library and then father murmured, "Yes. Finally some relief."

When the tension was finally dissipated from the atmosphere, Elia further lightened things with the introductions, "Oberyn, Doran, I want you to meet our little cousin. This is Lyanna." She warmly smiled down at me. But boy-man and I just glared at each other.

"You know, you scream like a banshee." I let him know in my matter-of-fact tone.

"You look like a ball of flour stuffed into a tiny Chef's hat." He muttered back taking in my pure white frock and of course the fat that can't be over looked.

Tears welled up in my eyes and I added the lip-quiver for extra measure. Everyone noticed.

Elia slapped his arm, Luwin's younger twin hit him behind his head again and they both scolded, "Oberyn!" He looked around, harassed and opened his mouth maybe to apologize but I didn't let him I immediately grinned impishly at him and chortled, "Ha ha!"

Everyone looked momentarily stunned but then laughed along with me, even the boy-man looked genuinely amused.

"She is going to make them eat their hearts out at her come-out." Dorne commented, "Already knows all the female wiles."

* * *

 _Dear Deer,_

 _I thank you for the birthday gift. I hope you liked the bookmarks that i made for you. I know you do not read anymore but I hope you start again. My cousin says books strengthen our minds and you need to be strong all over too. I drew a worm on one and hope you like it and find it as funny as I did, and smile whenever you read and remember me._

 _Yours truly,_

 _Book worm._

 _Postscript: Next time do not stare at our maids like a madman. I do not like it_.

* * *

There are only few people that my father ever deemed worthy enough to be trusted. One of them, unexpectedly was the duke of Stormend. Robert Baratheon's sire. Unexpected because they were nothing alike. Their personalities were like night and day, but Papa used to say that no matter the Duke's vices he was a very loyal friend and a worthy adversary. For I, two wrongs did not make a right. The duke was a gambling, whoring wastrel who was drunk the most part of his day. His famous escapade was when he was heart broken after the duchess died and went on a tour to the continent with half the whores of London.

Even during her life he had a bevy of kept women which he thought his duchess didnt know about. The whole ton believed it was grief and betrayal that slowly killed her but the duke swore he loved only one woman and that was his wife. I don't think much of this ridiculous reason he might have repeated in his head while bedding all those women. As I said before, 'tis a man's world.

With a father of such a disreputable reputation, Dragaestone wouldn't be left far behind. Though a friend of my quite and shy brother Ned, he was quickly getting noted in his own way while following his father's footsteps. The pair of them and their friendship resembled alot like our fathers'. For my childhood self though, he was still the handsome boy who awaited my jejune letters, sent me gifts and loved to show any sort of affection. Mainly physical.

At first I didn't like it, and how could I? It all seemed so queer to have a strange boy touch me so familiarly and I told him that. Which as usual made him angry and he refused to speak to me for many days of his stay. When I couldn't take it any longer I apologized to him, he only accepted after he made me endure his kisses for almost an hour. When he saw my strained face he yelled again and made me kiss him instead.

The first time I heard of his roguery, but didn't really understand any of it, was at the age of 9. Ned casually conveyed Robert's apology at dinner one evening, for not accompanying him because he wanted to stay with his father. To which Bran laughed out loud,

"Had our father celebrated my 16th year as the Duke did, I wouldn't leave his side either."

Father gave him a sour look, "So that's how it is, boy? To gain my eldest's loyalty?"

Ned and Bran exchanged a meaningful look. "Sir, I would happily lay my life for uhhh..." Bran frowned at me and then Papa, "to spend some time in Miss Delena Florent's company." He grinned again while eating, "Lucky son of a gun."

It was then his unusual courtship with Miss Delena, a celebrated star of Drury Lane, bloomed into an indecent proposition. Which earned him and his sire fame among fellow blackguards. Which as far as I can tell, favoured them both, while I lived oblivious, tucked away in the country - slowly and gently nursing my affections for him.

I sometimes find it funny, because of Elia, a voracious reader that I became I still had no inkling about the intimacies among the two sexes, so I pretended not to notice when I heard a particularly lusty female moan coming from a closed room whenever the boys were visiting. I accepted Robert's ardor as believing it is just like being with a family member, but more because he was actually not. I asked him once about this confused belief of mine, which he encouraged and had me accept that two friends really did act as such. It did not quell my dilemma at all. As I longed to mention Howlland, and how I could never kiss him but I restricted myself to expose my friendship. I shared everything with only Howlland. Not even Elia. He didn't know any better than I and sometimes we would sit and ponder on what something Robert did or said. Even with our combined brain power, Robert Baratheon's interest in me remained a mystery.

* * *

 _Dearest Deer,_

 _Felicitations on graduating Eton. I hope and pray for your success in University as well, wherever you wish to go. You shall have your pick from the lot. How could any institution not admit Eton's best sport's captain? I have included a gift to congratulate you and pray it keeps me remembered. I heartily await your arrival to pester you for stories of your celebrations. Hope to see you soon._

 _Yours,_

 _Artemis._

 _Postscript: You have to open the gift to understand my signature._

"Lia?"

"Hmm?"

"Where did you get that medallion?"

"I had Lia buy it for me."

"So who're you sending it to?"

"Just a pen friend."


	3. Prologue III

_"Tesoro, when are you going to grow up?"_

 _"I'm trying, Robert Baratheon! Nan says it takes time."_

 _"Try harder."_

 _"Don't rush me or I'll do it wrong then. I'm already 10, have patience."_

* * *

According to common belief, and myself included in the followers, it is said that growing up is the most difficult process a person has to endure. It is a double edged sword. A gamble, which can either ensure bliss or can leave the oblivious heart traumatized. It's devastating, exhilarating, confusing and inevitable. The days when castles dissolve into boulders, mighty swords become filthy sticks, veils shape into pillow covers and childhood companions are...lost.

Yes, very hard indeed. It's hard to shed a veneer of childish dreams and imagination and step into the real world with only an anticipation that it shall be a new adventure.

Funny, how we grow up with a childish thought.

I too had to let go of many layers which constituted my childhood. I remember one day fretting about my non existent breasts only at the age of 13. I was trying on a new dress that Elia brought for me.

Pulling away the hanging bodice, I peered at the shrunken nubs and glowered at them. I looked up where Elia stood in front of the mirror, a snug bodice pushed up her soft, and visible bosom, fluffed up skirts which accentuated her slim hips. She was admiring her own gown in which she looked absolutely gorgeous, like my dream-self. I again frowned at my chest.

"Say, Lia?"

She turned to face me and smiled, "Yes, Lia?"

"At what age did you grow your breasts?"

"I... I don't really remember. They just popped out one day, so to speak." She frowned in thought.

It was going to be her 6th season that year. She told me that she wasn't particularly dubbed the diamond of the first water but she was sought after for: her dowry, her brother being a rich tycoon with a prosperous shipping business, for being the beloved neice of the Marques of Winterfell and her family's close affiliation with the duchess of Westeros. She was a great catch in my opinion. Not because of the aforementioned affair, but because she was an intelligent young woman who wouldn't shy away from working if need be, but mainly because she has a heart of gold. Despite her being Oberyn's sister I could never find any fault in my cousin. Yet people made an issue of her frail health and hips being not suitable to birth heirs.

"So are you saying that if i...let's say, stuff my bodice with handkerchiefs today, no one would notice?" I inquired with equal parts anticipation and amusement.

She clapped her hands once, "What a capital idea!" She exclaimed, "Then you can offer your services to any sniffling nose! Be warned though, it is a bit chilly today." She giggled preetily while making me groan in distress.

One layer: shed. Resentment for my womanhood. If you ask me to point out the exact time or day I started appreciating and accepting myself as a woman, it would be impossible. Some things just happen without any conscious thought.

Another, and a crucial one, was peeled away from me at the exact same year. Elia was visiting, and for the first time Father didn't make her leave before the boys came, that was because we were celebrating Ned's success as a young inventor. Hardly out of the university, he invented a special type of a printing press which required lesser ink and made minimum mess.

It was a huge hit. It took the market by storm. Many publication houses pleaded for the design and many investors suggested for him to open his own publications. He decided to stay on the middle ground as a shrewd businessman that he was and allowed the investors to build his printing houses and gave the design to those businesses which were willing to share their profits with a hefty percentage.

He was a genius with money making. I was happy for him because now he shined in his own right and didn't live under Bran's shadow. Also because couple of years prior, he helped me cross the gorge our relationship had only managed to deepen. He was still not very talkative and never showed affection but he would ask me about myself and also if I wanted anything, whenever he went to the city. I once asked for a 4 color water paint set. He brought me a 12 color set. Another time I requested for a writing tray. He brought one, along with a delicately designed desk, complete with a comfortable chair. He was in a way like Papa, with his function oriented life-style. You see, he never would have given me a box full of pretty shoes had I asked for one pretty pair. But he would have given me a more comfortable and durable sort of footwear - and would be damned pleased with his choice. It would be unfair not to mention that the pair would have still been meant for girls and somewhat appealing.

So I was beaming at Ned too, along with others while Papa made his toasts before we resumed dinner. Bran had been watchful of me since that morning and was still stealing glances at me surreptitiously while frowning. I opted to ignore him but he was persistent.

"Saw you playing at the creek , brat. Who were you with?"

"Myself." I answered without looking up.

"You were talking." My cheeks started to burn. I was playing with Howlland.

"Perhaps I was thinking aloud."

He smirked, "For a 13 year old, who talks to herself, you have a lot of smart things to say."

I didn't look up from my plate even though my throat was constricted. So I just pushed myself away from the plate.

"Bran. Don't tease her. Let her eat"

His laughter sounded like a donkey's braying, "You should have seen her," he addressed the whole table, "Looked absolutely ridiculous. But so believable, I almost marched up to demand who she was speaking with."

Now my ears were ringing. I wasn't exactly mentally challenged as not to realize that even after all the years... Howlland remained the same. Same height. Same age. Even the same clothes. He was a manifestation of my longing for companionship and made into the image of the stories I used to hear from Mr. Reed about his son. Whom he had to leave at his parent's house when he joined the army after the death of his wife. He remained with his grandparents even after Reed's retirement because they needed him.

Bran was right, I was getting older.

I bit my lip so as to stop myself from crying. From in front of me I heard Elia say, "'Tis hardly ridiculous, my lord. Our mind is our playground and children are known to have such active imagination." She held my eyes while saying that. They held a wealth of sadness and apology but also a plea for acceptance and to embrace the change of adulthood by letting go.

I did. After that night when I cried at my loneliness. I wished him away.

* * *

 _"Mia Lia, when are you going to grow up?"_

 _"When it's time."_

 _"When is that?"_

 _"After some time, I imagine."_

 _"How long is some time?"_

 _"Longer than anytime."_

* * *

It was the 14th summer of my mortal life and the boys were yet again visiting, when I shed many of my final layers, but I never anticipated it to be traumatizing and my metamorphosis to happen in one day. I remember there was to be a garden party the Dayne family was hosting. As expected, all of Winterfell was invited, especially it's lord and his family. I thought to make an excuse and save myself from the drudgery that was to accompany while socializing with the Dayne sisters.

Nan, of course as always figured out my intentions and had my father intervene. She, with hands on her ample hips glared at me while apprising my father the benefits socializing could engender.

"Talk some sense into her, my lord. She wishes to stay hidden with those books of hers and is planning' to live her whole life in seclusion! She needs to go out and befriend girls of her age. She scarcely can hold a conversation. She needs to learn that too!"

I glared back, "Really Nan, no need to embellish. I just didn't want to go to a Dayne garden party."

Father tiredly ran his hand through his hair, "And why not?"

"I have my reasons." I shrugged.

"You see, my lord? It's like she lives in a world of her own making with rules made by her! Let me tell you, Lyanna Elizabeth Stark, 'tis considered blasphemy."

Laughter unwittingly sputtered from my mouth, "Honestly Nan. Your dramatics know no bounds."

She just stood there and scowled at me.

"Lyanna listen to Nan and I bid you to accompany me. I did not raise a petulantly petty young lady. And she's right, you need to mingle with people of your age. Form some conversational skills."

We both held a staring contest. He didn't even twitch and used his no nonsense face. I had to cry defeat and nod.

Nan clapped her hands once in triumph and left while mumbling, "I know the perfect dress for you, lamb..." as I started dragging my feet behind her.

Father looked at the clock in his library, "And before you leave please knock for the boys too?"

I nodded and dashed upstairs. I immediately went straight for Robert's rooms. Last week he secretly bought a bonnet for me. It had beautiful pink flowers on it and is now the most precious thing in my wardrobe. I decided if I was going, I shall wear that. I smiled at the thought. As I was about to knock, the door softly opened and one of the younger maids, Mary, stepped out. She looked flushed and disheveled with her shift barely holding on to her buxom chest while she hugged her uniform tightly to her body. The uniform was in her hands not on her body.

She started when she saw my smile die and got replaced with a frown. I looked over her shoulder at Robert's muscled back. He was naked with only a sheet tied around his hips and was splashing his face and chest with water.

"Mi...mi'lady?"

He froze and quickly turned around at that. His blue eyes widened in recognition when they spied me.

"Umm yes. Father just wanted me wake everyone up and remind you all that we have a garden party to attend." I glanced at the maid, my brows were still pinched in confusion. "Mary, could you please wake my brothers as well?" She squeaked a "yes".

I nodded and turned to walk away.

" Lyanna! Wait." I stopped and faced his silk robed chest which rumbled with, "Leave" for Mary. I looked up into his eyes, waiting for him to talk. His face held no regret and his eyes, no embarrassment. He just stared as if waiting.

I don't know what I felt that day. It was a peculiar mixture of disappointment and confusion. I didn't know what to make of his whoring and believe me I did know, even though I had no knowledge of the basic workings. I didn't know what to make of his swollen lips that were red and bruised. They have looked like that before. Right before he had kissed me all over. When I asked how they got so puffy he had lied about Ned punching him. I realized he lied while staring at those lips then.

I didn't know what to make of his shaggy hair which was disheveled too, like the maid's. That too I have seen before and not after a nap.

"Yes?" I still had a frown on my face.

He bit his lip while thinking and ran a hand down his face and then smiled charmingly. He didn't say anything nor do I think he had anything to say. We did not have a relationship. But then why did he kiss me so much? I actually winced in my persitent confusion. He reached for my shoulders which I knew was to pull me against himself and then kiss me. There's that damned act again. It was ricocheting in my head. He kissed his whores. He kissed me too. And he was going to kiss me again.

Then...what does that make me?

I stepped away quickly and shook my head to clear it.

"Tesoro" he voice sounded gruff with slight annoyance.

"I can't think. ... Please, just don't touch me right now." I wrung my hands. "What did you want to say?"

He just kept on staring at me. His eyes flashed with something at my words but he hid it. They became watchful, "Do you?" He asked like his normal self now.

I shook my head, "If there's nothing then..." I stepped away slowly, then turned around and ran to my room. He didn't call me back nor did I want him to.

When I reached my room, Nan had a pink dress ready for me with that pink bonnet in her hands.

"I pick this one because it'll match your new bonnet..."

"Nan I don't want to wear this color. Please take out the new blue one that Elia sent."

"But..."

"Nan." I looked into her eyes and gruelingly said, "Please."

I didn't see that bonnet again in my wardrobe after that day.

I dressed up or rather sat demurely while Nan fussed with me, with not much interest. I also didn't even make a sound.

"Lamb, yer hair's too thick and long for the pins to hold." My father never allowed my hair to be cut. It has been growing long ever since my early years.

I ran my fingers through it and felt the softness, "Let it fall freely then."

"I could trim it a bit..." She curled a lock around her finger and measured how much is her "a bit".

" No, Nan. My hair is probably my best feature and I happen to like it long." That was true especially since it acquired a light streaking from too much exposure to the sun. It looked like sun-kissed brown silk.

She tied the upper half of my hair in an elaborate fashion which made me look different, somehow grown up, or was it just my grim face? I kept on staring at my reflection for a while and felt an oily sensation of Robert's hands on my skin. I flinched in disgust and quickly came away from the mirror.

"There is promise in there I tell you." Nan beamed.

I couldn't help but snort without humor at that, "Yes. A promise of a lifetime of spinsterhood with maybe a chance to see the whole world and study their cultures. I'll take both of them anytime."

"It's those books talking. Filling that head with hay."

"Books are fodder for mind, Nan. They help expand your mind." I gave her a bland look. My tone seemed hard too.

She stared with that assessing look. I stared back and challenging her to ask me and despair.

She just sighed, "Aye well, no one's gonna want to marry a gel with an expanded head." Then widened her eyes in mock horror. "Imagine a veil covering that head. Like a handkerchief hiding a watermelon."

I genuinely laughed out loud at that.

We arrived on time in one carriage. The ride seemed a bit awkward because I couldn't look at Robert and his eyes never strayed from me except when he was being observed. When we stopped I jumped down immediately and stuck to Papa throughout. My favorite book in my reticule felt like a pulsing source of encouragement and support. If worse comes to worst I can always hide somewhere and read peacefully. After smiling and greeting so many faces my cheeks started to strain. There was the Dayne son who was knighted recently for something. A Duke's son who was visiting Arthur Dayne and apparently he was the honored guest.

I absently smiled when introduced but my eyes strayed far to a nice and shadowed clearing of trees with a small pond beyond. Finally I excused myself and went in the house to freshen up. Which was a ruse really to slip into a quiet room. Ideally a library. That was exactly where the Dayne sisters found me.

"What? What is it? I was just starting to flirt with the Earl."

"Oh hang it all. Eddard Stark is here!"

I rolled my eyes from behind the chair on which I was hidden from their view.

"So? I thought you wanted to snag Brandon?"

"I saw him mauling a serving wench once. He is handsome but a serving wench? I heard those trollops have clap."

They both giggled. "Hush, 'Shara. Oh you're so wicked. We're not suppose to know such things."

"And Eddard has grown so wickedly handsome I could eat him. And he has been a perfect gentleman. I think he even blushed adorably when I batted my eyes at him." She sighed in pleasure.

My poked my head out from the back of the chair and exclaimed, "What?"

They both squeaked in unison. "Lyanna."

"So now you've sharpened your talons for Ned? You, Ashara Dayne are a fickle creature."

"I... Well..." She stuttered.

"Think of what he'll have to say after I tell him all that I've heard?" I shook my head sagely, "He'll just swear-off ever seeing such a wicked girl again."

"No!" Ashara came towards me. "Please, don't."

I nodded in sympathy. Then, "Sit." I ordered.

They both sat.

"On one condition."

"Anything." Ashara cried.

I wet my lips nervously, "What does " mauling" a wench entail?"

They stared at me for a moment in stunned silence but then started to giggle.

"Oh you're such an innocent little dear."

"I'm not surprised. Your father keeps you hidden and away from the world's prying eyes."

I rubbed the bridge of my nose, "Just... Just answer the question for me." I stuttered at their laughter but I quickly recovered, "As Socrates once said, 'There is only one good, knowledge, and one evil, ignorance'."

They both leaned towards me with sparkly eyes. Like I think how the serpent might have looked when he had Eve's attention.

"Do you know what happens between a gentleman and a lady?"

"Marriage?"

They giggled again.

"No. When they're alone?"

"They converse like civilized people and abreast each other of their lives."

They smiled big which slowly died when they realized that I wasn't joking.

I made a frustrated gesture, "I don't know, play hopscotch. I would not be asking had I known, now would I?"

"Lyanna, do you even know about kissing?" Allyria asked reluctantly.

My cheeks burned when all the memories of Robert's kisses rushed forward. There wasn't a place where he didn't kiss. Even on my flat chest. And petting. He liked to touch me and make me touch him. I remember the day he showed me what a cock really means. He groaned everytime I asked if I was doing alright while pushing and stroking him on the crotch of his trousers. He pinned me to the ground after sometime and rubbed himself against me. The abrupt action scared me too much. I pushed against his weight, until I started crying. He let me go after he groaned loudly and slumped over me, not before. I ran away from him and never touched him again like that, no matter how prettily he asked. Thank heavens I didn't touch him without his clothes.

"Of course" I mumbled.

"Good. Alright, well, 'mauling' means when a gentleman is very...vigorous with his kisses and caresses. It's usually done to pursue a reluctant woman and arouse her ardor to make love with her. 'That' is when a man and woman join bodies." she quickly explained the latter when she saw my grimace.

My first thought was that Robert had always been mauling me. Second, did he maul everyone else?

Third, I was not an innocent anymore.

"Of course gentlemen do not treat ladies of quality like that. They don't kiss one unless she wants to and don't force them to return their affections." She continued.

"Allie, ladies of good birth don't let any man touch them unless he's your future husband or is already one." Ashara stated her opinion, "It's not what a gentleman wants but its all about the lady's character. Gentlemen can seduce women like that." Ashara snapped her fingers, "Only morally loose women give away their favors easily. And a lady's kiss is her highest favor, short to her virtue."

Not only just mauling me but like I was a common serving wench which has clap.

My ears began to ring. "And if a lady is touched like that?"

"She's a scarlet woman. You know, a harlot, whore."

Self-disgust started to creep in my veins as I mustered my courage to ask the question which had plagued my mind ever since that summer when I was 6.

"Do friends do that?"

Allyria frowned, "Like what? Maul each other? Make love?" I nodded silently.

"I don't think its proper for friends to do that. Unless the man is taking advantage of his friend. "

"Advantage?"

"Yes." Allyria rolled her eyes, "Men take advantage of women all the time. Because a woman would be happy to remain friends or acquaintances as we are trusting like that." She shrugged superiorly." But a man would use her to slake his lusts."

"But Allie! I don't think a gentleman could do that to all his lady friends. Their families could kill him."

"Yes well, only to those he doesn't respect and then perhaps keeps her on the side. Like a mistress."

I paled, "But doesn't a mistress get paid for her body?" I remember Elia telling me that.

Allie looked shrewdly at her and smiled, "Oh? You do know a bit huh? Yes she does but it all begins with friendship. You know, meeting, talking etc, all without being seen. He tries to soften her and wins her over."

"And if he's seen?"

"With a mistress, then people pretend they didn't see him. With a lady, its called courtship and usually results in marriage."

"Why wouldn't he marry the mistress?" I inquired.

"Who would want to have an immoral woman as a wife and mother his children?"

"But doesn't he have affection for her?"

Ashara cocked her head while thinking, "No. Not usually. Men do not feel that way. They don't get their affections involved. A man can get physical with a woman without feeling one whit for her."

"Then why do they do it?"

"Why else? Simply because they think they can."

* * *

I don't remember much of the conversation afterwards. Just that they apologized for all those years ago and hoped I would visit them more often. They also volunteered to enlighten me how a friend of theirs shares these stories when they meet again in their boarding school, after vacations. And promised to share everything with me next time. I mutely nodded when expected and answered in monosyllables. I felt numb. Completely devoid of emotion as the past years played in my head over and over again. I know it wasn't the exact reason which made Robert groom me into something made for his entertainment. He had his reasons. But right then I only thought of myself as a kept woman. Heaven knows I wasn't even a woman back then.

In that same state of trance I went to seek refuge in the same clearing which I saw before. I leaned on a tree and just stared ahead. I imagined I could read to divert my mind but it laid forgotten in my lap. I didn't see him coming nor when he quietly sat beside me. So I started when he asked the same question, without the customary poke to my hardly noticeable chest - but in a different way.

"Why aren't you growing up?"

I still didn't face him, but pretended to resume reading, "Why are you growing too much?"

"Because" he drawled and I heard the smile in his voice, "I'm a man and I must grow bigger in order to protect you."

'Then who will protect me from you?' Was my immediate thought. I trumped down any urge to confront him. He didn't deserve even my anger. But it was unnecessary. I was already left bereft of any emotion for him. I could only offer my indifference.

I turned a new page. Both in my book then and of my life, "And I am a realist who knows she shall grow up when her biological clock deems to allow it."

"Has 'she' always been this smart?"

I didn't answer for a long time then murmured, "No. Not really. But now I shall endeavor to be."

He ignored my tone which I know was deliberate. Something he inherited from his sire, "You're actually reducing. Practically vanishing before my eyes!"

There was a reason for that. Ever since I found my love for reading I considerably decreased the amount of my food consumption. I didn't find any time to eat. The time when I wasn't reading or being educated I spent it playing with Howwie. So the physical activity and lessened eating lead to my weight loss. I was still a bit soft without any knobby elbows and knees. I didn't notice but I started to feel more ease with my new shape. I could curl up more comfortably in a chair while reading, I didn't get breathless faster and Nan didn't have to alter my frocks to loosen them. Quite the opposite.

"Can't you make your clock go faster?"

"I'll add that extra prayer from now on." I sighed like I was enduring his presence.

He chuckled, "You sometimes act and sound like a duchess. All haughty and wise."

"Really." I asked without interest.

"Yes." He chuckled again, soflty, "Funnily, you remind me of my mother. You have her same coloring."

"That is funny, Robert Baratheon, and disturbing beyond measure."

He stiffened beside me. Probably noticed at last the sudden difference in my tone and demeanor. "Don't subject me to your non existent superior airs. And don't take that tone with me, Lyanna."

"I wouldn't dare, my lord."

He cursed under his breath and sat facing towards me. I turned to the next page. I felt his stare itching my scalpwhen he finally said, "I'm talking to you."

"And I'm listening."

"Are you going to keep on acting disrespectful and stay emerged in that God damned book?"

"My apologies, my lord." Not even moving a finger to close my book. How dare he talk to me like he owned me?

"Merda!" He muttered loudly then he clamped his large hand and pulled my arm to turn me. He brought us closer and spoke through clenched teeth, "I do not like these walls you've erected for us."

"My lord, I'm bearing with your presence because I do not to wish to cause a scene for my family." I jerked free of his hold, "But I will no longer tolerate your behavior."

'I am not an immoral female.'

'I am not an immoral female.'

'I will never let him touch me again.'

I dismissed him by shuffling further away from him and returning to my book.

He stood with an angry huff and snatched my book from my hands. "You do not ignore me!" He growled loudly. "You will not dismiss me like I am nothing!"

My eyes were only on my book, "Give it back Robert Baratheon."

"That is so fucking like you! You always called me that! Never by my Christian name! I adore you and that is how you repay?" He noticed me reaching for my book. "And stop looking at this bloody book and Look. At. Me." He shouted at my face and then flung my book in the pond.

"No!" I ran till edge and watch it break the water's surface with a splash. "No. No. No!"

I now had angry tears in my eyes when I turned to him, "Why did you do that!? What is wrong with you?"

"You cry and blaze for a book and didn't fucking care when you saw another girl come out of my room?" He yelled at me.

"I didn't because I don't care! I didn't feel a thing about it! And I never will after today!" I whirled around from him in a jerk, with my long hair flying behind me. That gave him ample opportunity to snag his fingers in it and pull. I cried out with pain and came closer to him to ease it.

He cruelly tilted my head up. "You don't care?" He breathed on my face and slowly walked forward making me move back, until my back hit a tree. He angled my head with my hair again and ran his lips along my jaw leaving a wet trail. "You are the only one who is supposed to care, Lia." His lips crushed mine in a brutal onslaught. They sucked, tugged and nipped at mine.

Before breaking away he bit hard on my lower lip enough to make me whimper. "I patiently nurtured your affections for me for all these years, tesoro." Once an endearment then seemed so ugly. I just held his atrociously possessive stare while my tears ran freely down my cheeks. "You do not get to walk away now. All I ever wanted was to be your world. And you WILL keep on thinking me as such."

I turned my head when his head came down for my lips again, "I'll tell my family how you've been treating me. My Papa will kill you."

He laughed against the skin of my neck and pulled down the neck of my dress. He inhaled to take a deep a breath, "mmm heather. Just how i like you." He kissed a trail downwards and bit down on the skin- sucking it in his mouth. "Then," he talked slowly between kisses, " I'll just have to show " Papa" all your letters, Mia Lia. How do you think he's going to react when I tell him his daughter has been acting like a little wanton with her brother's friend?"

One of his hands was roaming my body, touching my chest, stomach and between my legs. I shied away from his touch and buried myself further against the tree. "I never liked your touching me." I said helplessly.

"You crave my touch. Every inch of you. Mine to do with as I please. Leave you, touch you, or hurt you. Anything." He breathed hard next to my ear, "And what's more, you will allow it happily." He bit my earlobe. "I am your world, Lyanna, accept it."

I struggled to free myself, huffing, scratching and pushing. He laughed at my attempt and easily held my arms tight at my sides. "Look at you! You're like a snarling, spitting little kitten." He nipped on my burning cheek. "I understand your anger for now, but you shall come to your senses later, if you know what's good for you."

I vowed at that moment to never let myself feel that helpless again. I never wanted to feel at someone's mercy. My heart hardened at his words. I resented my family for letting him stay under our roof, my brother for befriending him and myself for being so stupid.

Even with my chest heaving I managed a whisper, "I'll scream, Dragaestone. Let go."

He smirked but eventually stepped away. I didnt look at him while I put some distance between us. I tidied my dress silently then wiped my cheeks. From the periphery i saw he was leaning negligently against the same tree. I stared at the place where he threw my book and recalled why it was important. The reason it was my favorite was because it was my first book, and it was a present from Elia. I could purchase a new one no doubt but that worn, dogeared book was irreplaceable. It had a note at the end from Elia along with papa's signature for which I harassed him incessantly. I also made , Luwin, Ben and Nan to sign it. Ben because even though he hated spending any time with a girl I loved him in spite of that. Elder siblings are supposed to love and not be cruel to you. I know he felt like an adult when I asked him. Also special, because I still remember his smile. He wrote or rather scribbled barely legibly and kissed my cheek afterwards. See? That book held so many memories and sentimental value that it really was irreplaceable.

"I was going to forget how you treated me. How you manipulated my affections and innocence. I wanted to forgive you for even treating me like one of your whores. I was young and impressionable and you betrayed my trust." He came away from his lazy pose and straightened to his full height at my words. "I will never look at you the same Robert Baratheon. I didn't feel anything before and now..." I seared him with my eyes and let him see everything that I thought of him and with jerky motions wiped my eyes with my sleeve, "...now I loathe you with all my being and wish to never see your face again."

I ran away from him. Minding to avoid the crowds, I escaped without discovery into the library once again. I was still a young girl, my mind was a flurry of confusion but my fear of Papa and losing his regard presided over everything else. I flopped head-first on the couch and bawled my eyes out. My crying had subsided somewhat, when I heard the door open again. For such a big mansion there was no place to hide in privacy. I didn't raise my head but kept it buried in the cushions. I heard footsteps and thanked God they were moving to the other side of the room.

'Maybe a lord came for a stronger spirit.'

Instead of hearing clinking of glasses I heard the creaking noise of someone raising the old piano's fall board.

And then ...magic happened.

It was escaping from the piano and filling the room. It danced along the lines of melancholy and jubilance. But in the end melancholy won and wailed her woes at me. Whispered in my ears, her sympathies about mine. Told me that loneliness is a formidable companion. Urged me to unburden my heart with her lament.

Unbidden tears came to my eyes and I started sobbing a bit loudly. The person missed a note and immediately stopped. I burried my head further in refusing to see pity or disgust at my outburst. This time I heard hesitant footsteps which stopped at my head side. I turned my head away towards the back of the couch. The person waited in silence until finally my tears stopped and I only hiccupped.

"Who hurt you?" His deep voice resonated in the room. I was expecting a "Pardon to intrude..." or even "Why are you crying?" in sympathy. His question seemed so familiar and matter-of-fact as if he would really do something about my problems. But I was beyond any sympathy, politeness or even concern.

"Myself."

He sighed and sat in a nearby chair and after a minute or two he said, "Sometimes I hurt myself too."

"Men don't suffer from hurt but inflict it."

He chuckled softly, "Oh? So young yet so experienced?"

"Shut up." My voice was muffled but my meaning clear. He was silent then he softly asked,

"Who broke you, dove?"

I let out a cynical snort, "I let myself be broken." Then sniffled softly, "What does that say about me? What is wrong with me? Why can't I be..." I stopped and started sobbing again.

When he didn't reply and just sat in silence, I thought he was just a drunk trying to make jolly in his inebriation. I sighed in frustration, "Please just leave. I request you."

I was almost willing to leave myself, but then he rose from his chair and walked behind the sofa. I could feel his eyes behind on my back. He lifted a long lock of my hair and softly murmured, "'Not to unlearn what you have learned is the most necessary kind of learning.' "

He stuffed a soft fabric in my closed fist and left.

I never saw Robert after that day. I did not leave my room for the entire length of his stay in fear of ever bumping into him. The next 2 years I went to spend my months with Elia if I ever heard that Ned was coming with his friends. Ned himself seemed a bit watchful too, because after some time his stopped bringing his friends altogether. He never confronted me, but I had a feeling he knew something.

For me, it was like Robert Baratheon never existed, and he probably never did. Not for me. His presence didn't extract the air out of my body or made my blood hum. He never made me so at ease that I'd feel like floating in the air. I was never in love with him. He just stopped existing for me.

I have a secret to tell. Well, one of many, I suppose. I still have that handkerchief and nobody knows about it. I like the feel of it on my skin and love to run a finger on the embroidered initials on the corner and think whenever I grow a little everyday, 'What would he say about me now?'.

'R. B. T.'

* * *

 _"Cara, when are you going to grow up?"_

 _"I already did."_


	4. Chapter 1

_"Lyanna, you must get out of bed and make yourself presentable. It's your brother's engagement celebration! Up. Up. Up."_

 _I rolled over and groaned exaggeratedly, but kept the arm with the onion in it's pit, underneath and away from sight. "Lia, I don't think I can get up."_

 _Elia pulled back the curtains, then turned around to roll her eyes at me, " Poppet, who have exhausted all your excuses." She came forward and touched my forehead absently, "Now 'tis only your laz...Dear God, you're burning up! I must ring for Nan."_

 _After half an hour of cool bandages Papa decreed I must stay abed. Elia was devastated as she wanted me to meet her future in-laws and i was looking forward to it as well but I didn't want to go and pretend to be happy while looking at Robert Baratheon's face. So i decided not to force my brother to make a choice, I made one for him and saved him the embarrassment of not inviting his childhood friend. Sisters are inconsequential when it comes to future dukes and socially well-known contacts._

 _Nan stayed with me throughout the duration of the party. The whole house was making merry and toasting Ned and Ashara's love._

 _"Why didn't ye go, lamb?"_

 _"I wanted to spend this time with you."_

 _"Do ye think after wiping ye and changing yer nappies I would not know when you're hiding something?"_

 _I stayed silent and then sighed, "Isn't this better? I do not wish to mar my brother's happy day with my envy, Nan. It's better that I stay away."_

 _As per her motherly nature, Nan ran her hand over my head and petted me consolingly._

 _"Will it ever happen to me?"_

 _"Aye when ye meet the right man, lamb." She smiled._

 _"What is a right man?"_

 _"One who loves, gives ye your own home and children." Her eyes started to look distant, "Would fight the whole world for ye. Forsake everything just to spend a minute with ye."_

* * *

 _2 years later..._

 _"...YOU ARE CORDIALLY INVITED TO THE CELEBRATORY BALL IN HONOR OF THE LADY LYANNA ELIZABETH STARK, DAUGHTER OF THE MARQUEES OF WINTERFELL..."_

Robert smirked maybe a hundredth time while reading and rereading the invite. He placed it back on the side table and swung his legs to sit at the edge of the filigreed bed.

'So, the country rose is finally in bloom and ready to be picked?'

About fucking time too. It was high time that he claimed his intended. All that hide and seek was starting to grate on his nerves. He hasn't even had a glimpse of her in 2 years. Not at their Winterfell seat, not at Ned's engagement, never. Even the dressmakers were bid to come directly to Winterfell's town house as her cousin prepared for her celebration. This ball might give him an excuse to make sure to let her know what their fathers decided all those years ago.

Silly girl, thinking she could treat him like that. He had her at the palm of his hand once and he can damn well do it again. After this season, she shall realize how much he is sought after by ambitious mamas and young ladies. More so, ever since his father's death, because now he needs a duchess: a homemaker as well as a fine hostess. The latter could be taught with guidance and practice, which she shall get enough what with all his political career and social life. This was one of the reasons he was such a good catch. His family wouldn't find a reason to say no.

Besides, that long ago was just a childish tantrum, which she persisted to prolong and he obviously had to indulge her. He never wanted her to witness his indiscretions but after his 14th year he has not gone without a wench for long, ever. It was not his fault that Winterfell was filled with such Scottish beauties. Enough to make a boy forget that he's visiting his future in-laws. Oh but she had been mangnificent in her anger, he remembered her blazing eyes the last time he saw her.

Now he sees the error in his actions. She was supposed to think the world of him, hero-worship him, but it had all gone to hell. He never wanted a wife who thought less of him. He'd seen enough of that in his parents' marriage. His mother was disrespectful and defiant yet his father tolerated her out of love. Lyanna even at the fanciful age of 14, did not seem to care for his amorous relations and that worked fine enough for him. If she ever grew any recalcitrant bone after their marriage, he could always discipline her. Nobody sympathizes with an errant wife.

Love was never a part he wished to introduce in his marital life. From his wife, sure. Women are known to have such foolish ideals regarding marriage. He would take her love if she wishes to, he will after all make her a duchess. What else can a young lady want? She'll receive her due respect, and, if what his mistresses have said is true, acquire a handsome husband. He knows his effect on the fairer sex and wouldn't be averse of it if he could manage his wife as such too. That is exactly how life should be among a husband and his wife.

Not that she would have changed that much but even if she had gain some weight or has grown an unsightly mole on her face, he would still have to endure. He doesn't have the patience to hunt for a wife. She's: available, of good pedigree and at long last of age. The only things that should matter in a wife. His blood will make up for the looks in their sons. Just an heir and a spare. After that, they may live their separate lives. Her in the country, his in the city. She has lived all her life in the country without an inkling of what kind of vultures make up the haute ton. She'll see the wisdom in keeping her away from the city where he can keep on living his life as it is.

He reached out and fondled a soft, naked bottom beside him and smiled devilishly. Then again, what she doesn't know can't hurt her now can it?

No, she will do just fine and having a brother-in-law in Ned wasnt a shabby idea as well. He was already like a brother to him. Even that arguement 2 years ago didnt cause a rift between their friend ship. Robert wanted to punish the chit for what she almost cost him but stayed away at Ned's request.

Yes, he can't wait to go to this ball.

A small hand slid on his back and made him turn around and a smooth voice said sleepily, "Why are you up, my love? My body already feels bereft."

He laughed. Such pretty and practiced words. "Your love am I, Dela? So what will you do if I were to tell you I was up because I was reading the invitation to my future duchess's coming-out ball?"

He was sure she winced behind his back, and smiled big. She wasn't even his mistress and still can't deny him, good little harlot that she is. That brought him the thought of his present mistress Fleur, a luscious French piece and how she was going to have his head if she knew he was in some other woman's bed. Nothing a pretty trinket can't upease and after a bout of vigorous sex he shall tell her he's letting her go. He wasnt going to give her time to think. Can't be too sure about all the Starks hounding him about his licentious affairs. Fleur wouldn't be disappointed, he'd make sure of that. No, he was a generous protector.

Every whore is sweet after being thoroughly rogered and every woman whores herself for something. Like Dela, she whored for him for love. What a joke, when the reason he broke off their arrangement was because he caught her in bed with Baelish. Whores are fickle like that. Last night was nothing but a sort of a sweet revenge. He grinned while remembering Baelish's face as he swept her away.

No man's pride can withstand a slight like that. His didn't thus he never forgot.

She laughed brazenly and stretched like a cat. She was aware of the effects the sight of her naked body had on a man.

"A man doesn't have to love his little wife. I'm sure you have your reasons, your Grace but I didn't mean to sound presumptuous. Please forgive me." She purred an apology while running her tongue along his ear.

Robert ran a hand down her flushed cheek to her handful breast and groped her, making her gasp. "Look how preetily you beg. Tell me Dela, why did you invite me to your bed last night?"

She sputtered, "You know why." His control while being intimate always left the tarts flabbergasted. He's never lost his head over a woman. Nor will he ever.

"But my solicitor meets you every week and always returns...mmm ...quite flushed." He goaded her. She was so beautiful any man would be tongue tied and flushed with embarrassment. Even her last cheating debacle was only a ploy to make him jealous. She really did claim to love him. If he gave her another chance she would never stray from his bed again. But she was history and the world is full of more younger and prettier women.

As expected she snapped back, "He lies and you know it! That lecher! I wouldn't even breath in his direction if it wasn't for you?"

"Then as far as I know everything is in order." He gave her a look that spoke of threat and a promise of it's fulfillment. He didn't have to wait long for the affirmative nod.

"Good. Heaven knows I'm paying enough." Then he pinned her with a lascivious look that always made his women breathless. "You'd do anything for me, Dela?" He leaned and kissed along the column of her neck and licked her puckered nipple. She melted immediately, making him smile.

"You know I would." She moaned and lifted her hips towards him in silent plea and clenched her fingers on his sex. She started to move her hand to arouse him again. God but she was as lusty as him.

He growled and arched her neck with her hair.

"You're my sweet little whore, aren't you?" He bit her lip.

She mewled. "Yes. I'm whatever you want me to be, my lord."

"You say you don't seduce men everyday, ma petite chatte, but you did exactly that to me." His fingers found her slick folds. He rubbed her the way she liked and then slipped in 3 fingers all at once. Making her pant and writhe beneath his hand.

"Oh God. You don't know how much I missed you, Robert." He bit and licked her flesh roughly all the while punching his fingers inside her ruthlessly just the way she loved it.

"Prove it." He stopped and layed on his back. "Prove it with that talented throat of yours"

Eyes lidded with passion, she didn't hesitate to climb atop him. Robert smiled at the above canopy with his hands behind his head. He can't wait for the ball but this was a nice way to wait.

* * *

It was drizzling outside when the Marquees of Valyrion entered the bookstore. He shook his coat and ran an idle eye over the inside of the shop. Somber and grey like the weather. He could not comprehend that the hold of a vast amount of knowledge can be so boring and lifeless. Bookstores should be lively and colorful, a testimony of the worlds they hold, not drab and monotonous. He walked in, while waving away the proprietor of the dreary establishment he turned to an aisle of shelves of scientific tomes and journals. He did not have the patience for his snivelling flattery.

His patience ran thin these days anyway. His father's deteriorating health, his impersonal betrothal and the resulting engagement, everything was wrecking a havoc on his mind. Ever since he could remember, he has always been worried. First about his mother and his father's cruelty towards her. He's spent most of his time, even as an adolescent, trying to hide his father's debauchery from her. Not that the duke made it any easy.

Then his little siblings. His father's lavish and extravagant lifestyle had almost cost them their lands and heirlooms, until he started handling the account ledgers himself. He actually made a profit by introducing new methods of farming to the tenants. Dabbling in different business ventures helped as well. 4 years he's spent overseas, making a fortune for the family that didn't deserve it. He did not care one whit that working was frowned upon in their society. He had people to take care of. Nothing less for them nor can he withstand it.

But now that he was to marry that too was done by exploiting his regard for his poor mother. Even she has disappointed him and divested him of a chance to seek a life partner who could share his burdens. Someone he could love and cherish. Who would be just his, and himself hers.

He sighed, all his life he has lived as a paragon. Now and then an idea to cry off the engagement came to his mind but he batted it away. He needed a distraction and not a female one. Mindless tarts who only drooled after his face and heritage did not impress him enough to ease his woes with them. Now knowledge, he thought while running his fingers over different book spines, any kind, could lift his spirits in a second. He found the journal he was looking for and stood to read a bit.

That Young chap really was trying to leave his mark in history. Soon there'll be a formula named after him. Valyrion thought if he could meet him and prod his mind. He could always use his station to pull some strings. If the scientist impressed him he would become a benefactor for his experiments. England needed young and fresh minds.

He was lost in his musings that he heard movement on the other side of the shelf. His eyes moved negligently from the pages through the books and froze. It was like a thunderbolt had gone through the length of his body.

'Winter frost.'

There was no other way to express the color. So beautiful, with a gray halo and a tinge of blue, surrounded by lush dark lashes. Those eyes, under highly arched and elegant eyebrows, were blinking at some books overhead, as the beholder pouted those lusciously pink lips in concentration. Wisps of rich brown hair escaped from an ugly bonnet and framed a pale heart shaped face. The Spector wrinkled her adorably upturned, button nose in distaste at something. His chest tightened at the sight. But then she suddenly smiled.

Valyrion forgot how to breathe.

The book in his hands almost slipped from his hands as he watched a dimple pop out of a soft cheek that was flushed with pleasure. She still had not noticed him, as he gaped from a shelf above, and did a quiet squeal and a jumping jig while hugging the book to her chest. She looked vaguely familiar, yet he was unsure because right then Valyrion didn't even know his own name. He absently pinched the inside of his thumb to see if he was really awake. She whirled to skip away and unbeknownst to his brain his legs made him follow. Her pale blue skirts halted in front of another shelf. He halted and stared at her which was so unlike him. She was young and short, he guessed 5 feet 4 inches approximately, but even through her shabby clothing he could appreciate a body with a promise to tease a man's senses.

As if feeling the heat of his eyes, she looked up. Their eyes met for maybe 10 seconds. A slow smile started to curve his lips but then he saw her frown. She insolently looked him up and down with a sneer then rolled her eyes and went back to reading.

'Well, old chap, there's always a first time.' As long as memory serves he never met a woman who looked at him so contemptuously before dismissing him. The experience was indeed humbling but he wasn't easily discouraged. He squared his shoulders and marched to her side. While he was softly clearing his throat to begin his address to this...this angry angel, she slapped her book shut and met his eyes head-on.

"Let me guess. You're a Lord something or another, a patron of the establishment and couldn't help but notice a single female showing an interest in books so out of the goodness of your heart," she again subjected him to that sneer, "you wished to supply your suggestions. Am I right so far?"

What's this? An angel with a tongue as sharp as a rapier. Valyrion frowned at her.

She hugged the book close and mocked a look of adoration, "How chivalrous, my lord. I am at a loss of words." She looked around as if she was going to swoon. In the next instant her face turned completely bland as she slowly straightened, "I can assure you, my lord, I neither require your assistance nor the honor of your acquaintance and I am sure by the look on your face that you agree. Good day." They kept on staring. She waited for him to leave and he, for her to finish.

Then without warning Valyrion threw back his head and laughed. A full belly laughter. It was so unexpected that she jumped a little. From the corner of her eye she saw some other patrons gaping at him as well. He wouldn't fault them, it must be a cold day in hell, to witness such a public display of mirth from him. And what was there in his life that would have ever make him laugh? Her silly playacting and then angry dismissal was not enough but knowing that she did it, was. That beautiful creature in worn out clothing, with amazing eyes that didnt widen in adoration but were spiting fire. When his shoulders stopped shaking somewhat, he looked at her to see her scowling deeply with her arms crossed on her ample chest. When his eyes lingered, she cleared her throat. He looked up and grinned. She made a scoffing sound.

Love at first sight. What a ridiculous phenomenon. Now, desire he could understand. Something that he felt right then, but what about that silly urge to hold her in his arms and never let her go? He never experienced it to know.

His smile turned soft as he looked at her like he has finally found something. Maybe he had. He raised his hand and grazed a thumb on her cheek. "Oh, but you are precious."

"Ray? You old dog, is that you?"

The moment was broken with Arthur's booming voice. The tall knight was already striding towards him and gave little time to bid a good bye to his vision. His eyes ran over her face, memorizing every feature. It was unlikely he would forget anything of this meeting. It wasn't everyday a man's whole world is changed. He was torn between staying to know more about her or meet his friend before Arthur could lay his eyes on her. He saw her biting her plump lower lip and quickly made a decision.

"Do not leave." He saw her blanching and added, "Please." He wasn't above pleading with her if need be.

He met his old friend halfway without realizing, that it also gave her enough time to slip out of the shop herself.

* * *

"Oh Lia! How pretty you look!" Elia Martell fussed at the young girl's shiny hair. "It's a miracle we were able to tame this hair. I think I might have to give Anna a little reward for it." Her Abigail smiled shyly at that.

The girl sitting in front of the mirror just stared without as much as a wrinkle on her face with excitement. She sighed and urged her resentment away. She didn't want this. Not this ball. Not this beautiful dress or the hairstyle she had to adopt to please a gathering of strangers. How could her father do this to her. All her life he kept her away from the opulence of the ton and now wants her to make her way into them. History has witnessed human race to have always shun a newcomer. Either one has to lay seige and make a place for him with brute strength or else expect to be brutally killed.

These so-called civilized people were no good either. While they are having ostentatious parties and balls, many little children slept with an empty stomach almost every night, at St. Giles. They do not care for anyone of lower station or anyone who different from them. Even though many of those children are their by-blows but of course these lords think, to ignore a matter simply makes it disappear. If they can't take care for their own flesh and blood, how come they are going to accept her, a country Miss? She'd rather spend money on those children than to embellish herself to avoid being denigrated by these popinjays.

"Lia."

"Hmmm?"

"Where did you go? And what made you scowl so fiercely?"

Lyanna made an effort to smoothen her face of her inner musings. "I don't think I'm looking forward to this evening."

Elia stared in that same thoughtful manner that always unnerved her, "There was a time when you could not wait for your come-out."

Lia snorted, "There was a time when I used to have imaginary friends too." That made Elia flinch.

"Alright. So, you've grown up. True. But that does not mean you do not have to enjoy yourself."

"I agree. If only my enjoyment was the primary objective."

"Lia." Elia chided softly, "Such a sarcastic tongue you've grown. It is highly unseemly."

"Elia, I leave my etiquette with Mrs. Deveril after my lessons. I am observed all the time, I do not want to be under scrutiny in my own room as well."

Elia sighed opting to leave the matter and address the main one, "Sweet love, 'tis a right of passage for every young lady. You're not the first one to go through it in order to acquire a husband neither will you be the last. Uncle shan't live forever, do you not wish to have your own home and cease living according to your brother's law?"

Lyanna's throat restricted with tears at the thought of losing her father.

"I do." She hoarsely answered. 'Avoid his law and become a slave to my husband's.'

She chuckled sadly and told Elia when she raised her eyebrows in question, "Caught between the devil and a deep blue sea." Her cousin smile and started arranging her sleeves. Those sleeves looked lovely against her soft shoulders and arms, even her collar bone was prominent. Though it looked attractive but Elia was worried about her non existant eating habits. That girl would live on pages if she could. Ever since they have set foot in London she seemed distracted all the time. Which reminded her...

Elia asked softly, "Where were you in the morning?" She stayed silent and watched the myriad of emotions play on the young girl's face. She had been like such since that morning. Elia even caught glimpses of silly smiles while she was being groomed and bathed.

Lia did give a slight start, as the morning's memories bombarded her. Her eyes drifted to her jewelry box where laid the evidence of their last meeting. Even now her hand itched to take it out and twist it in her fingers as per her newly developed anxious habit. She finally found her R. B. T. , or rather he found her. Her face softened at the memory of his laughter.

Never Ina million would she have guessed that the phantom that plagued her mind for 2 years had the face of a fierce Arch angel. He was tall like Papa but broader, his heavy lidded violet eyes, under expressive eyebrows, regarded her so softly. A straight patrician nose over a pair plump lips for a man give him a somewhat severe look. And Oh Lord his jaw...sharp enough to cut glass. Everything, from his starched white shirt to his coat, everything complimented his sun kissed complexion. Even his light tawny hair complimented that smooth tanned skin. It was long enough to curve below his jaw and it wasn't styled in that dandy way. No. It made him look like a huge Viking warrior.

It was an effort when she frowned at him and his silence only encouraged her. Had she known he was her R. B. T. she probably would have stuck her foot in her mouth. But she only noticed him after he opened his mouth and said,

 _'Oh, but you are precious.'._

Even now those words warmed her cheeks while remembering the feel of his thumb on her skin. Then it was like her knees have turned into mush. A chance meeting. In a bookstore. This was the stuff of epic romances. She was almost going to blurt somethimg truly embarassing but Thank Lord for acquaintances with bad timings, she was saved. When she ran away she almost turned back, worrying she might never see him again.

Ray. That R was for Ray. So simple yet how it suited him. She spent the afternoon rolling that name on her tongue while smiling to herself.

Maybe they shall never see each other again but she can spend the rest of her days happy knowing dreams do come true. True to her cynicism she never thought far ahead such as an elopement or a cosy cottage in Italy. No, she knew it can never happen and she had responsibilities to her family and father.

When she didn't answer right away Elia looked more closely at her face, "You've got the same smile that you had this whole afternoon." She teased, "What happened today?"

Lyanna averted her eyes, "Nothing. I didn't venture into a gin factory or anything." She met Elia's eyes, "Nothing extraordinary happened."

'Except for when the world stopped and breath froze in my lungs when he touched me.'

"I'm glad. We can do without scandal right before your debut. Thank God 'tis fashionable to rise late."

"Hmm"

Elia turned Lia around and smiled at her, "You're going to be amazing. It's impossible not to love you." When Lyanna snorted, she cupped her cheek, "You look beautiful. Remember, us women, we can bring pride only as such for our families. We can't fight this world and make our own name."

"You didn't always think that." Lia pouted.

"Well, age does change one's perspective, poppet." They both giggled. When they sobered Elia continued, "But I have seen 'tis best to leave the strenuous pursuits for the men, while we concentrate on doing part for a better future generation."

"That's your fiancé's love talking."

"Is it wrong? To be a haven for the man you love?"

No, it wasn't wrong. Unbidden images of chubby babies with violet eyes came in her mind, and a tall, tawny father lifting a baby on his shoulders. Lia shivered with a giddy feeling but suddenly frowned. 'What is wrong with me? We just met! It wasn't even a proper meeting.'

"Notice the emphasis on 'love', Lia."

"Do you think I'd let Uncle throw you at just anyone?"

"Oh so throwing is still involved." Lyanna said dryly.

Elia light slapped her arm, "Married. I'll fight for your love, Lia. But in order to find it, tonight is important."

Lyanna didn't doubt her. She'd lay her life for her elder cousin too. She hugged her and held tight.

"I'm just nervous, Lia."

"You've got no reason to be, Lia." Elia smothed a gentle hand down her back.

"You know, I think I love you." Lyanna giggled when Elia tried move away and hit her again but didn't loosen her embrace.

"You think!?"

Again when the giggling subsided Elia pointed out jokingly, "Told you they just pop out."

The younger girl moved back and stared down at her bosom then met Elia's eyes, which were shining with mischief. They almost fell over with their laughter.

* * *

The preparations seemed fine enough but the crush was unexpected for Cercei, she thought while drinking her lemonade. She heard from one of the dragons that the girl had lived her whole life in the country. She wouldn't be surprised to see a gawking and stammering country bumpkin as Lord Winterfell's precious daughter. Who was she joking, daughters aren't precious but just a mean to strengthen political and business ties. She could almost pity the bumpkin. Tonight the ton shall see her worth and what the men in her family might decide her price.

Maybe the people are here for the exact same reason her father brought her. Both Lord Stormend and Valyrion are to attend the affair. What better oppurtunity to parade their eligible daughters in front of them. Even though the Marquees of Valyrion is engaged, her father is still hopeful for a match. Low aim had always been a crime for the Earl of Casterleigh. She wasn't complaining though. Far from it. She'd die a happy duchess if Rhaegar Targareyen ever made her his wife. His looks are meant for art. His manner for poetry. Many a times she's heard him being likened to an angel, but a fierce one, because his strict and serious demeanor is no laughing matter.

On the other hand, Stormend has a look of a highlander warrior. She almost giggled imagining him in a tartan and that skirt-like awful garment. Oh but he was huge like a maiden's dream. He was known to be a good orator in the House and deviously charismatic. Though he never liked Papa and his ambitious nature. Who does? People are just wary of him because of his wealth and his closeness to His Highness. 'He has the King's ear.' is often heard in the drawing rooms as well as in gentlemen's clubs. But Stormend doesn't care for that, no, though a whoring wastrel himself he still believes he's above Tywin Lannister and his political schemes.

She sighed, suddenly missing her brother. If he was here, Casterleigh would have made him come and probably would have bullied him to court the Stark chit. Thank God he went on a tour. She saw her father motion for her and walked towards him.

Ties. Strengthening.

Ties. Politics.

"Yes, father?"

"I want you to befriend this girl. Introduce her to your circle, take her for ices I don't know but make it happen. I'll vouch for her at the Almacks too and let the news reach Winterfell's ears." He scowled then, "I wish that useless brother of yours was here. The sooner that dammed coutship begins the better. There is still a chance for Stormend to ask for her hand. Their families have always been close."

Cercei flicked the fan in her hand in dismissal and made a lady-like snort, "Stormend would never marry a country mouse. He needs a wife with social ties, who can be the perfect hostess and charm the wigs off his political rivals and allies."

"He neither needs nor wants such a woman. Men of the world like Stormend, prefer 'country mice'", he sneered at her, " because they find them biddable. Not a social butterfly who wouldn't give precedence to home-making." She had the decency to blush at being reprimanded. "Do what you are told. You'll be asked for your council if it is ever needed."

She managed not to duck her head in shame, old habits and all, "Yes, father."

Her father opened his mouth to say something else that a hush fell through the crowd and all eyes went to the grand staircase. Cercei jerked at what she saw. A single figure stood there and wearing a powder blue silk gown she looked like an ethereal vision. All the Stark men went to stand at thet lower landing, waiting for the young lady to descend. She looked calm and collected, not even a silly smile to show her nervousness or giddiness as she took her steps. Cercei recovered from her initial shock and heard the positive comments hum through the crowd. The girl reached her family and came down the rest of the steps on her father's arm. Lord Winterfell's smile was so proud, as he lead his brood towards his well-wishers, anyone who saw it couldn't help but smile with him. Her father grumbled under his breath as the girl came nearer, "Bloody Starks. She's beautiful."

She really was. Hers was an unforgettable face. A barely contained wild streak under a veil of innocence. Cercei thought that men are going to be tripping over themselves, trying to own that innocence. Then enjoy taking that veil off to expose that untamed nature, all for them. Men like to feel special that way. If how all the poppinjays were gawking towards the stairs is any indication, she'd say her prediction was right.

"Not as beautiful as you, Cercei." She heard her uncle Kevan say softly in her ear, "However bright a torch might burn it could never match the rising sun." That made her smile. That's exactly what she needed to hear.

Oh my, look at those eyes.

Such an angelic mien.

Not even a little bit of vulgar display of emotions.

'Yes, yes. We can all see that.' The Lannister goddess smirked and thought of her own come-out. Every family has to set their own style while presenting their daughter to the society. Hers was at Almack's. Father had planned it of course, to reveal his beautiful daughter to every ally and enemy. Her looks were the apple that was dangled for the competitors. Her heart clenched at the thought of an enemy gaining the hand of the Earl of Casterleigh's daughter inrevenge, only to punish him. What a cruel joke. The Earl wouldn't care if her husband hurt her, but would only if he reengages from the settlement. That should make her envy Lord Winterfell's daughter. He was acting like he exposed something very dear and expects everyone to treat her the same. Small wonder he planned it among friends.

Some pleasantries were made. Introductions were done. When they finally came to the Lannister family, Cercei saw with her own eyes that the words did not do her justice. But the girl seemed oblivious. She did not turn her neck left and right to stare back at the flock of dandies waiting to get her away from her father. She met Cercei's eyes doing a little lip twitch in greeting. While Cercei put on her most friendly and beguiling smile. Brandon Stark did a double take at her but the girl only raised her brows minutely. Cersei made sure to make a point by enchanting the surrounding male populace. She smiled coyly behind her fan when expected, batted her eyelashes when needed and flattered the ego of any man who talked with her. In short she put on one hell of an act. The girl just stared at her and their audience with an assessing and thoughtful look. She did not appear to believe one whit of Cersei's playacting.

Damn it all but her disbelief was unnerving. She supposed she had to bring her down a peg or two. Besides, it was bound to happen, if not by Cersei then someone else. She couldn't wait to see the brave mouse cower.

While Tywin, matching his daughter's smile, charmed the men Cercei tried conversing with her.

"Are you nervous?"

"Yes."

"I remember my debut. It was the first time I felt my heart beat so fast." She made exaggerated expressions and fluttered her fan.

"Why?" The girl asked with a narrow eyed stare.

"Well. I kept on thinking if I would topple on the stairs or if people might think me homely." She kept her voice sweet and face kind.

"You look neither clumsy nor ugly. Did your debut change you that much?"

Cercei blinked in surprise at her unexpected frank speech, "No." , and laughed in a tinkly way, "How imaginative you are!"

"Am I? Or was your earlier comment not a remark at my homeliness?" She raised a brow in question.

Cersei sputtered "I...I didn't mean.." Then she saw the teasing light in the girl's eyes.

"You're actually quite good at it, you know." The chit replied in hushed tones with something like mild respect. Then they were moving on to their next guests.

Cercei gaped after them and shut her fan with a snap. The nerve of that girl! She made her, Cercei Lannister, stammer! She's known to cut ribbons out of dull débutantes like this village oaf, in her sleep. Oh but had father not told her to befriend the chit she would have let her know the edge of her tongue. How dare she mock her when she was only trying to be kind to her!

The first dance was between daughter and father after he excused himself from the present Dukes and Marquesses of higher rank . All the old dotards laughed and nodded in good nature, apparently everyone loved the gesture. When Lord Winterfell and the girl finally arrived at the center, it was only then that she smiled genuinely while looking at her adoring father. The gathered guests applauded while the rest of the couples joined them. The sight flickered out any anger she felt, only to be replaced by sad envy.

* * *

Damn Fleur's luscious hide, he was late. Robert winced while taking a velvet box out of his coat pocket. The marks on his back were a result of his interlude with his now ex-mistress. That woman gave as much as she got and he almost stopped himself from severing the contract. Maybe after a year or two he can find someone just as lusty. All good to those who wait, and wait he shall for the continuation of his line. Although Stannis and Renly can very well take care of that but he has to marry doesn't he? Why not sooner than later?

He looked at the box and smiled. No matter what he tried to tell himself, but he did form a small affection for the girl and was in a way excited to see that chubby face again. He could almost see her jumping into his arms and apologizing. He would of course, only after a stern lecture during which she would pout adorably. After the lecture if they were alone he'd kiss that pout into that dimpled smile and all will be well. The carriage stopped for him to step out to the front door of the venue. He went in, was announced and then immediately found Ned.

"So big boy. Where's that little brat?" His eyes ran above the crowd, tall height had it's perks, and spied a small grouping of young bucks and fresh gels but at the center was only one girl. A new diamond? Robert smirked, to whom even the Lannister vixen was paying homage. He looked to the opposite direction to find Lyanna. She could not be a part of that crowd.

"Firstly, you unmitigated arse, you're late." Ned grumbled lowly as his friend grinned at him.

"Secondly, you're looking at the wrong direction." Ned lifted his chin at the flock, "She's already surrounded."

"Ah. Your cousin must be introducing Lia to her circle. Wise choice." He ran a hand on the velvet box and murmured, "I'll just go and see what's that about." He started walking, ignoring Ned's urgent, "Wait!"

As he came near the center figure started taking a shape. He smiled as he took in the young lady's profile and body. God above but she was ripe. Soft looking at all the right places. He came a little closer and his smile started to dim into astonishment. Brown crown of hair, blue gown...frosty blue eyes... People parted to make way for him and he. Just. Stared.

A goddess held court amongst those poppinjays and giggling messes. In the middle of a merry revelry she looked like she was enduring their immaturity. Her fan slowly fluttered and once in a while her soft petal, pouty pink lips did a little twitch at something the crowd would say. She stood regal and without a hair out of place. She was beautiful. Enchanting. She was... He stumbled in his step.

All the other girls turned their simpering eyes at him and tittered behind their fans, finding his clumsiness endearing. While the rest of them laughed right out. He didn't give a damn at that moment and just gaped with wide eyes as the goddess laughed out too, showing a heartbreaking dimple in one cheek.

"Lyanna?"

Those big wolf eyes blinked as her body turned at the sound of his voice. She hadnt seen who it was then, must have thought of him as a random person trying to get in their circle. She held his gaze and there was a brief flicker of recognition which killed her smile and made her smirk, "I believe someone is fashionably late." There was no warmth or even a hint of amicable teasing. It was just to divert everyone's attention at him.

"Lyanna?" Robert repeated dumbly.

She stared wide eyed and pointed her closed fan to her well rounded chest. Robert's eyes along with everyone else's went down. His nostrils flared.

"Yes, I Lyanna." She said like talking to harebrained person, "You?" She did a patient slow eye blink making everyone laugh again while Elia Martell rebuked her, "Lyanna!"

Robert felt his cheeks tingle and with effort he closed his mouth.

"His Grace the duke of Stormend. Lady Lyanna Stark." His brother, Renly announced while chuckling.

"Little Lia?"

Elia smiled at Lyanna, "She's not little anymore, your Grace. And I think she's lucky enough to make new friends tonight." In other words she was a hit.

"We're the lucky ones Miss Martell." One of the bucks Sir Gothlam cheered.

"I hope we remain friends, my lady." Another one addressed Lyanna.

She fluttered her eyes and looked distressed, "Oh I don't know us village bumpkins have a tendency to embarrass themselves at the most inopportune times. Would you not be hesitant to have an acquaintance with someone like me?" She subjected him to a smoldering wide eyed innocent look.

The young officer looked like he might swoon, "Not even a little bit."

Her insecurity was found endearing because she didn't act even slightly as a country bumpkin.

"How beautiful." Robert breathed and finally made a voice but quickly snapped his mouth shut , all the people present had already witnessed him make an ass of himself, he needn't give them more fodder.

Lia smiled and curtsied, "Thank you." and he kept on ogling at her, she just lifted her eyebrow and stretched a hand towards the crush. "It is a beautiful gathering. My family outdid themselves, for the little ol' country mouse."

"Lord Winterfell only had to do was commission your portrait and show a glimpse to the world. People would have crowded your doorstep without an invitation, my lady." Robert threw a dark scowl at the pretty worded poppinjay. It was the Earl of Grisham. A dashing man Robert supposed.

Lyanna blushed prettily behind her fan, "How...how kind of you." She ducked her head which looked quite charming. This also made everyone smile at her adoringly, and Grisham saluted her with his glass.

She already had the promise to be the most sought after match. Not him. Her.


	5. Chapter 2

Robert could not believe his eyes. He had heard and seen people somewhat change after childhood but a girl to turn into the vision of his dreams? Never happened before. He could not wrap his head around the fact that, the little awkwardly tomboyish Lyanna Stark had bloomed and morphed into this enchanting creature. She held everyone's attention and played with it well with her innocent country Miss charm. Although she met everyone with the wit and politeness no country flower could muster.

God above but she was dazzling, he thought with a soft smile. Throughout the time he stood by that group, he could not utter a word of the things he wanted to rebuke her about, but silently stood, smiled when she did and gasped when her laughter tinkled. Because a being this pulchritudinous couldn't have any less beautiful laughter.

Maybe it was the way he looked at her that changed or it was just her look, in any case Robert Baratheon's whole world tilted that night and he couldn't be more pleased for it.

He tried to catch her eye. She always looked the other way. He tried to get a dance with her. Her dance card would be full. He tried to give her his gift. She brushed him off with a polite,

"I'm sure, your Grace, our footman George is receiving those for me."

Even after being slighted amongst his peers with her constant snide remarks, he had a smile on his face. And a silly one at that. That smile followed where his eyes went and his eyes beheld her each and every gliding movement. He just couldn't help it, his Lia was so graceful.

She was his Lia.

His.

He laughed while smoking a cheroot on the terrace. God, but she was meant for him and it was about time his house received some tender female care. His house and himself. He turned his head and grinned at Ned.

"I think I just met my future duchess."

Ned scoffed, "It was always meant to be."

"Alright I think I just met the girl of my dreams."

Ned blew smoke towards the night sky and turned his damned too perceptive gray eyes at him, "Really?"

Robert held his gaze. He knew right then he was facing Lyanna's protective elder brother not a childhood bosom buddy. He tried to convey the sincerity of his intention. His gaze never wavered. He wanted her. As his wife. His lady. Just his.

Ned nodded after a second or two and took another drag from the burning cheroot, "Come to call tomorrow. Talk to father." And turned away. That was it. He had his friend's blessing. Now he only needed to make their courtship official.

* * *

Lyanna was standing in the shadow of one of the pillars that sorrounded the ballroom at the Starks residence, when she heard the movement by the fern plant beside her. That who made that movement, silently stood by her as both of them observed the crowd. How the crystals of the chandeliers covered all the elegant people in their sparkling light and illuminated their gay faces while they talked, gossiped or even danced. So far, everyone seemed busy and it epwas unlikely she would be missed.

"You were right." She said after a moment, " No matter how much it kills me to admit, you. Were. Right."

An amused chuckle, "Puss, these people have very predictable minds. I have lived amongst them, freely, yet had them believe I followed their bloody drab rules."

Lyanna hummed in agreement and then turned to him, "Where on earth were you?"

"Admiring my star pupil from afar and hearing unbiased comments being whispered among Uncle's so-called well wishers. You're a hit by the way."

Lyanna scoffed and rolled her eyes. Like she gave a damn if the ton received her with open arms into their bosom. Bunch of ninnies an fools.

"How unlady-like." He reproved in mock severity.

Both cousins grinned at each other.

"I saw someone following the principles you mentioned down pat."

Oberyn mocked a stunned look, "Was it every lady here today?"

"Well, yes, but she was truly marvelous. Had everyone of the unfair gender..."

"Funny."

"...wrapped around her finger." Lia twirled a gloved finger in the air. "I am utterly impressed. Her jibes are so fine only a mind with a perception akin to a microscope could get it."

" Did yours? "

"Do you doubt it?"

"Do I ever?"

Lyanna laughed but tried to stifle it with a hand, "Yes. Many times actually."

"Must be Cersei Lannister. Known to be not a lioness as such but a vixen. Though her golden beauty gets her away with every riot she might cause. I personally do not like her as a person. As a woman, I desire her yes."

"Of course you do." She teased, "There is hardly a woman you don't desire."

"I don't desire you." He countered.

"My heart bleeds, truly." Her tone was dry, "Besides i do not wish for us to trade skin remedies, I just want to learn from her. Like I did tonight."

"You're getting better than her I suppose, I saw a certain unapproachable duke hanging to your every word."

"More fool he."

"He's not known to be one."

"He is a waste of existence. His brother is far more charming."

"I'm sure he is. Since he wasn't even trying to charm you."

"What?" Her inquiry was hesitant due to confusion.

Oberyn had a mysterious smile on his face and just shook his head in dismissal.

"Whatever the reason, my point being that the duke of Stormend and his bizarre habit to stare with an addled smile is not charming in the least to impress me. His interest is inconsequential." She shrugged one of her dainty shoulders.

"Many mamas here would slap your wrist for saying that. I even heard him being called irresistible."

"By whom? His staff?"

Oberyn laughed out loud at that. His handsome face looked more carefree. His dark eyes wrinkled at the corners with mirth as he regarded her. He wasn't tall, no. He was shorter than Lord Winterfell, but was lithe like a snake and seemed graceful in his evening clothes, or in any apparel. He wasn't just a dandy who struts in a gathering with his impecable sene of style. He was the heart of any party. People sometimes said he could charm a queen to gamble her crown away, thus his reputation among the ladies and his luck with cards. Unlike Doran he enjoyed revelry and partying which always ensured an invite to the Carlton house. He was in short, quite a sought after guest at any gathering, if you want to make it a hit.

Whenever Lyanna was finished with her lessons with that dreadful semi-dragon Mrs. Deveril, Oberyn made time every afternoon and evening for his little cousin's original lessons. Ones that she actually needed.

He took it upon himself to teach her everything there is to know about the beau monde. From where to shop in Bond Street, to how to flirt. At first when he told her about flirting she laughed out loud on his face, which he endured with a bland look. When she was done he told her just as blandly what he thought of her BRAYING, making the young girl's cheeks grow red, which in turn made him teach her how to use her feminine blushes to enchant men. Needless to say she was a fast learner and he only saw promise that night.

"You needn't laugh, cousin. I'm utterly serious. I do not like him."

"Have a care, puss. He is not only an admired peer of the realm but your brother's very good friend as well."

"Oberyn," Lyanna turned her troubled gaze at him and only said, "No."

She wasnt negating any thing he said but stopped him from persisting on the issue. He searched deep in her eyes for sincerity, when he found only that and distress, he could just nod his head in acknowledgment.

There was certainly something his little cousin was not telling him. No one could form such a severe dislike like that. He was sure since Stormend spent a lot of his holidays with Ned at Winterfell he must've met Lia at some point. Probably teased the poor girl incessantly.

"You said there would be invitations once I have had my ball."

"Yes. That and you also require a voucher for Almack's" He looked through the crowd and nodded his chin in the direction of 3 elegant ladies with fashionably ennui stricken faces, "Those are 3 of the Lady patronesses. Elia invited them for a reason and they came because of your father's influential circle. Lord Winterfell is a very honored member of the ton."

Lia looked too and remembered how Elia too had to emphasize for a proper behavior before she introduced her to those ladies. "I remember meeting them but did not know." She remarked absently while watching an exchange between Miss Lannister and the Earl of Grisham. 'She has them all fooled. Now that is an art to learn.'

He stopped and stretched his neck to see beyond the sea of faces. "Lia, I think my sister's mother-in-law is leaving and Elia looks bad enough to faint while searching for your pretty face."

Lyanna came away from the pillar and batted her eye lashes, "Pretty?"

Oberyn groaned, "Women. Never satisfied with a single compliment. Run along, minx, before Elia faints."

When Lyanna reached her cousin she heard the duchess fluttering in distress, "Elia, my darling, I apologize again for my son. He promised he would come but at the last minute he had an emergency!" She held Elia's hands tightly, "Oh but you must come this week with Lyanna and introduce her to the rest of your family." She laughed at Elia's blush.

Lady Rhaella Targaryen, the duchess of Westeros, was a beautiful woman even in her somewhat advanced years. Her silvery gold hair was pinned up in an elegant chignon, decorated with what seemed like diamond pins and pearls. It went beautifully with her light mauve ball gown. She was known for two things in the ton, her unhappy marriage and her extravagant sense of fashion. Nothing less than perfect for the duchess of Westeros, as only superfluity could compensate for her marital state.

She and the duke were cousins, with the same grandsire and were betrothed since her birth. It could be said that she was born to be his duchess, in a way like Cersei Lannister, who was just bred to be a duchess, any duchess. But Lady Rhaella was known to be an epitome of a ducal lady wife. It was as natural to her as breathing. Almost the whole kingdom knew of the Duke's treatment with her but she was never seen cowering with a ducked head in public. She always looked fabulous and better than the rest. Even her parties are known to always be a successful affair.

Her deep blue eyes went to Lyanna and smiled, "Darling girl, what a success you are! How beautiful." She lightly tapped under Lia's chin with affection. "Elia, you must be proud of your little cousin and yourself after this night."

Elia weaved her arm through Lyanna's as she said, "I could only do so much with what was given. This is all Lyanna's light shinning through. I was but a little help."

"Modesty! Look at my daughter-in-law, and how humble she is." Lia fought against the urge to grimace in embarrassment, "I saw little Lia as a child and I can truly say you have worked a miracle, darling Elia. I only saw a swan tonight, nothing else." When Lia stiffened beside Elia, she quickly looked at her apologetically.

Lyanna let go of her cousin and just stood there with a bland face. Waiting for Lady Westeros to leave. Which she did after inviting her again and saying her loud farewells. She shouldn't have been surprised with the duchess's veiled jeers. She had a frank way of conversing which was unlike Elia. Lyanna always imagined her cousin to be married among people that were like her. Kind hearted and loving. They seemed to be loving but didn't have a kind word to say to anyone except their family.

Lyanna sighed, braved a forced smile for Elia and moved away to lose herself in the crowd.

Maybe it was a ducal thing. Families of dukes acted as such? Not thinking of others as human beings or their equals. Not that there were many of them but some of them were knoen to be a class apart. At times like these she really resented her Papa. For he kept her from knowing that people could act like thus. In a way it was her fault as well, she frowned at where Stormend laughed and talked with her father. That 2 years ago was lesson enough, for anyone who looked for it.

She made her excuses and started to go upstairs, that for a moment when she turned her head she met Robert Baratheon's intense blue eyes. Maybe she never learned that these lords...they were in a way like spoiled children and got what they wanted. Always. She looked away but not before she saw him salute her with his glass and smirk in his cocksure smug way.

* * *

The next day Robert did just as his friend suggested. He woke up in a chipper mood, which even his somber valet, Hicks, pointed out, and Robert replied with a clap on his back shocking the living lights out of the man and exclaimed, "It's a beautiful day to score a comely duchess, my man!"

"Good luck, your grace." His valet replied blandly, not really inviting conversation.

Then the young duke went about chatting while Hicks shaved him, combed his hair, helped him dress up and tie his cravat. He told his annoyed valet everything about Lyanna, her family and their betrothal, and never once really saw Hicks's strained face. He skipped breakfast, as Ned suggested they go together to their club after his call. Besides, he was too excited to eat.

So he climbed his new bay, a marvelous piece of horse flesh which he named Wallace, because he wanted to make a good impression and made his way to Lord Winterfell's townhouse. On his way he bought a bouquet of pretty heathers for his Lyanna. His. He chuckled. As he knew she lived her life in the country, she'd appreciate the gesture. What girl doesn't like flowers?

The Stark residence was a stoney roman-style mansion situated on St. James. This was maybe the work of that architect who was obsessed with combining modern with old, but the result of his labors were always magnificent. A tall entrance gate had a Lupine emblem on it, Robert noticed its detail while passing it to enter the drive towards the entrance facade with Doric columned Palladian portico. The gardeners were at work to maintain such a fresh and colorful garden, but mainly to keep it presentable for the many callers whose carriages and horses he could see.

Robert was surprised to see Luwin, who received him. "You managed to leave Winterfell behind, Luwin?"

"It was hardly a choice, your grace, when there was help needed for Lady Lyanna's season."

"Ah."

The duke never asked why he didn't see him nor the butler mentioned he was the one who received late guests last night. Ergo, him as well.

He lead him into an entrance hall where they turned left which lead into a drawing room colored in themes of green. All the ladies rose immediately when he was announced except of course Lyanna, who stopped smiling and took her time plus a discreet nudge from her cousin to stand. She was surrounded by young people of both the sexes but she was the only one who looked apart. She looked very pretty in pink and his mouth watered as his mind compared her to a confectionary. Unbidden his gaze traveled down to her chest where the neckline was deep but not too deep. Like a promise of something that can exceed your imagination. He licked his lips. He could take a bite out of her...

A throat softly cleared and brought him back to the present. God but he was losing his mind. Just a look at her newly blossomed self and lascivious thoughts bombarded his senses. He looked around and smiled, greeted everyone and made his way towards Lia. She was glaring at him. Maybe his face did play out his mind's musings. His smile widened. Good. He wanted her to know how he felt. She did an adorable mock curtsey but did not offer her hand.

"Lia you look lovely today." He presented her the flowers, "Now I see some pink roses would have been ideal. But I hope these can suffice for now."

Her eyes dropped to the bouquet in his hands then at him. She gestured vaguely at someone. As it turned out was Luwin who took them from him to place them with the rest of the arrangement.

"That was very kind of you, your grace. Thank you."

He frowned at her. She didn't even touch them. And it was such a bland thank you, even Hicks sounded more lively than that. He took a seat, thinking he already talked to Lord Winterfell and had some time before their meeting which he could spend in small talk. Lyanna served him a cup through a server and practically ignored his presence.

"So how are you finding London?" He asked.

"Tiring." As yesterday he only received a one worded answer.

"Have you seen all the sights?" Another eager chum asked.

"All the necessary ones I suppose. Bond street, Madame Cherie, the glove maker..." She smiled in a teasing way.

Everyone laughed.

'Would it kill her to give me that smile?' Robert's good mood dimmed a bit. Not a lot. A bit.

"That is true, these are necessary for the season, but have you seen the Mayfair, Vauxhall, Drury Lane ectcetra?" Some heiress, Miss Belfry, inquired.

"Not yet but one day soon."

"Oh you must come for the Wednesday show of Mrs. Delafort! The woman has an amazing voice."

"I'm sure my lord you stayed long enough to hear her perform as well."

Titters and sheepish laughter.

Lyanna slid a knowing glance at Robert, which made the teacup in his hand almost slip, and smirked, " I too would love to see the woman everyone loves to talk about."

Robert gaped at her. Did she know anything? If so, how? Because if it was Ned he would most definitely murder his friend for talking. There was already a strain between them he didn't need the devious gossip too. He kept an innocent and bland mask, and did not let her goad him further throughout the conversation.

At one point when he saw she kept ignoring him, he had to look elsewhere to talk or else again seem like an arse. He talked to people, joked and laughed and bid his time to have the minx alone to talk to her. That opportunity came when she went to the far corner of the room for some refreshments.

He sidled up beside her and she visibly tensed. "Lia." He said simply.

"Your Grace."

"Robert. Surely you haven't forgotten my name so soon." He purred near her ear. Discreetly of course.

"Our brain tends to forget mishaps more easily." She looked up and emphasized, "Your Grace."

He chuckled, "My witty Lia." She huffed but he continued, "Come now. Do not be angry with me any longer. How long has it been since I last saw you? 2 years?"

"I wouldn't know my lord. In order to keep a measure of time it would require for me to care."

"Ouch. You pierce with every parry."

She measured him up and down, "Yet here you stand." She meant to turn around but he captured her elbow.

"Wait."

She twisted away and grated, "Your Grace?"

He smiled again, "Let me take you for a ride tomorrow morning."

"I'm sorry Your Grace."

"Why not?" He frowned.

"Because I'm sure I would have a headache tomorrow."

He stared, "How about the day after that?"

She shook her head apologetically, "Stomach ache."

He felt his lips twitch in amusement, "Thursday?"

She didn't even hesitate, "Sprained ankle."

He scratched his brow to hide his smile, "I see."

She turned around and acted so bloody embarrassed that it was almost believable, if it wasn't for those teasing eyes. "I truly am sorry Your Grace. Perhaps another..." She smirked scornfully, "lifetime?" Scoffed, then walked away while swaying those delectable hips.

'Oh no my bittersweetness, this lifetime.'

He looked for her cousin and quickly formulated a plan of action.

* * *

It was a nice way to spend an afternoon, Lyanna mused while sniffing new books. New pages and fresh ink always had a dazing effect on her senses. But she would be lying if she thought that the books were the only reason for her happiness. She looked out the window again. No, it was also the anticipation of meeting him again. She felt many stares on her ever since she first stepped into the shop. First it was the grumbling owner who didn't want her in there. She told him off in the most sweetest of words that she was sure his head spun. Then as the shop filled up all the other patrons sneered at the shabbily clad waif examining the books.

Their snobbery was unbearable but she wouldn't have come unless the shop's window guaranteed a full view of the shop opposite to it. Where she first saw him.

Her plan though, seemed a bit faulty and now that she had time to think, it was rather impulsive to just clothe herself in an old shabby gown and march herself to the store opposite the one in which she saw him. Only to spy just a glimpse of him. Whether he would come again for the same reason she came.

'Just a peek.' She promised herself. She wasn't sure he was tall enough or broad as her mind perceived him so that she could do him justice while writing about him in her journal. And she couldn't quite remember the exact shade of his thick mane that hung losely and came about his chin.

Yes, she needed details. Ah, well, not that he would come for a fact but waiting while going through these books, she was not complaining. She smiled to herself.

In the next moment she heard commotion outside and strode out the door into the street's pavement after hearing a low plea in a childish voice. There was a crowd accumulated between two shops. A man's angry yelling and a child's answering screech could be heard clearly now. Lia hastened in her steps and was completely oblivious of a pair of violet eyes that followed as well as the man himself, ever since she stepped out of the shop.

As she reached the middle of it she saw a cowering little boy who clung to a book while, Lia guessed was the owner of a shop gave a solid punch and shook him violently.

"I'm telling you, Sir, it was my papa's book! I want to sell it to buy medicine for my mama! Let me go!"

"Papa you say runt? Do you even know who he was? No son of a whore is going to get away with stealing from me!"

At that Lyanna gasped and elbowed her way towards the child, who was bleeding from the head and crying big fat tears. She almost took the next hit but the man stopped. "How dare you, Sir? As if beating a defenseless child was not enough you have to use such an uncouth mouth."

The boy clutched to her skirt and tried to get up, "I didn't steal it. It was my papa's."

Lia looked at him and was surprised he could even stay conscious with all the blood dripping from his face. "Hush, sweetheart, just stay down." She knelt and cleaned him as much as she could with her handkerchief.

He was very small, almost hip length, and wore dusty and ragged clothes. His black hair was matted with blood on one side but even beside that it wasn't in any clean condition. It was short and was shaggy. His small face was smeared with dirt and contrasted his bright blue eyes. He was in short a beautiful child, Lia observed.

"Who the 'ell are you?", the shopkeeper grumbled. She's seen him before. He had an old shop where he mostly sold antiquities. He was an old gruff looking man, true, and his muttonchops only added a grizzly effect yet he didn't seem so bad. She couldn't fathom an old man could treat a child so brutally and scowled at him. Funny, how people can show their true colors.

"Someone with a little bit of moral fiber, Sir. Have you no shame? This little boy could have died." She sneered in her most haughty tone.

"Now see here..."

"Not that a person's circumstances should matter when it comes to precious life, but listen to his manner of speech! Does he seem like a street urchin to you?"

The man grumbled under his breath, "'E stole from me."

Another voice asked from the crowd right behind from Lyanna and the boy, "How much was the book worth?"

"20 shillings." The man scowled.

Lia glowered at the man, "Not worth the child's life I can assure you." Then she dug the amount from her reticule and threw it at the man's face. "Be gone, Sir. Let this be a lesson to you."

The man turned purple with fury at her insult. He tried to step up to the disrespectful young chit but was held back by a heavy hand on his shoulder.

"Leave." The impeccably dressed huge gentleman said just a word and the crowd dissipated. Lyanna heard it too and stiffened. He was there.

As the noise quited the man's Hessians appeared in her field of vision but she was too upset to really concentrate on him or his voice.

"That was utterly stupid."

"I did not see anyone stepping up for the poor boy."

"Not that. But as a girl, to just leap into a situation without anyone to support you. Stupid." He crouched beside them. "Someone would have stopped him sooner or later."

She frowned, still not turning towards the man,"When? After that odious man had killed him?"

"Some people were inclined to stop him."

"Sir, had I seen such a man I wouldn't have to intervene.

"You shouldn't have intervened, regardless of the situation." He chided with an impatient tone.

"Why?"

"There is a reason to call womankind the fairer sex."

"Funny how I always wondered what is its masculine counterpart called. Unfair sex perhaps."

He laughed which in turn made her lips twitch. He stared at her a beat or two and said quietly.

"Look at me."

Lia ignored him and made a show of dusting the child's clothes and adjusting the collar. The man caught the child's eye and sighed dramatically and shrugged as if to show how much patience it required to deal with her, while he grinned in answer.

"I'm alright mi'lady. You should really look at the gentleman."

The said gentleman leaned closer and almost whispered playfully, "Yes, you should really."

Lia just clenched her jaw and decided to change the subject. "And you boy! Did you really steal the book from that man?"

The boy pinkened, "It was my papa's, I swear!" He opened the end page and showed it to her, "M. M. Stone. That was him. It was a gift from my grandfather. I'm not lying."

Lia read the note and asked, "Where is your papa?"

The child bit his quivering lower lip, "He died. People... People took away his things."

"Then sweetheart," Lia placed a kind hand on his shoulder, "I am guessing his things were sold?" When the boy nodded she continued. "This belongs to the person who bought it. It is still considered as thievery even if it once belonged to you. What you did was wrong."

The boy just stared at the ground in embarrassment and let the tears fall down his cheeks. "I'm sorry."

"I know now you are dear. You seem to belong from a good home, what would your mother think?"

The boy scoffed bitterly and wiped his nose with his sleeve. "She doesn't care. But I'm the one who has to find medicine when she needs it. It's not grown on trees I know. I just..." He looked up at Lia with bright eyes, "I just don't want to lose her too. No matter what she does. I can't..." His voice cracked and Lyanna quickly engulfed his shaking shoulders in a sideways hug.

"Come now sweetling I think it's enough lessons for her today." The man decided to break the tense emotional moment.

Lia frowned at him, "Her?"

He glanced meaningfully at the child and smiled with a tilted head, "Her."

Lia gawked at the child and blinked slowly once and then twice.

The child looked flustered, "Mi'lady... I..." She widened her big pleading blue eyes at her and whispered after a long pause. "Do you hate me now?"

"Hate you? Dear girl you just might have gotten yourself an admirer." Lia smiled at her and lightly touched a coal black curl on her head, "What is your name?"

"Mya."

Lia mused while staring at her cherubic blue eyes, "How could I not see?" Then muttered, " I did think you were quite small for a boy." Mya smiled at that. "You must come with me and have your wound cared for."

Mya jovially sprung to her feet and chirped, "Don't worry, lady." She dusted her britches, "Dr. Willson lives next door and is a very nice person. He'll fix me."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

Lia gauged the little girl's sincerity and then took out some money for her, "Please take this, little Mya. For your mother."

The girl frowned at the money and just stared at Lia for sometime, hesitated, and then held her book for Lia to take, "I'm not...not a beggar, mi'lady. Please buy my book."

After gaping at the small child for a long moment she mutely took her book. "How old are you?"

"6."

"Impossible."

"Almost 6."

Lia laughed incredulously while holding the book to her chest, "You're 5? Did you eat an old man to be so wise at this age?"

"Eww" Mya scrunched her nose, finally acting like someone of her age. "I did not eat an old man. They smell like medicine." She giggled.

Her mirth was contagious. Lia giggled with her while their audience chuckled in his deep voice.

After sobering up Mya asked, "Will I see you again?" And blushed.

"Dearest Mya. I must insist upon it."

With that the girl hugged her tight, smiled to the man and ran. Forgetting all about her injury, she whirled around waved enthusiastically and disappeared around the corner of a building. Lia was worrying her lip while thinking about the little girl's bloody gash on the head, that from her side she heard.

"So."

She stopped what she was doing and thinking, too much aware of the voice and of the man it belonged to.

"So," she got up and hastily shook her skirts, "Good day, Sir."

She couldn't go very far, not even 2 steps really, when she was whirled around and dragged to a darkened corner between the shops, which was also quite away from any prying eyes. 'And from anyone's hearing distance,' an unbidden thought emerged in her mind. Her back suddenly hit a cold wall while another brick wall-like body barred her escape. She just gaped at the thick column of his tanned neck, trying to regain her bearing.

She could feel him staring but could not yet meet his eyes, then out of nowhere he plucked at the ribbons of her askewed bonnet losening it and moved it enough to let her hair escape. Brown, hip length silk spilled around her yet she didn't make a sound. Not of outrage, nor of distress. She was that surprised. She felt a light tug at a lock as he pulled it to his nose and felt the texture in his fingers. "Hmm. Vanilla." He almost whispered to himself.

Anger snapped her mind back to working order. She snarled at him, "How dare you! Have you lost your mind?"

The insufferable man just chuckled making her gasp, "Perhaps."

She scoffed still angrily, "Well 'perhaps', you could do that where I do not have to endure your manhandling my person! Move at once!"

He didn't move a single inch but just grinned at her struggle.

She tsked and clenched he jaw while pushed with all her might at his hard chest. When she exhausted a little she raised her eyes towards the heavens, "Just my luck to be stuck with..." She looked at him and hissed, "with this man!"

He moved and pressed her further into the wall, "You may curse your stars, my girl, not that I can hold you accountable." He chuckled, "But I'm thanking every divine intervention for being." Violet eyes bore into her own, "Stuck. With you."

"Shut up." She spat and renewed her struggles.

"Settle sweetheart, before you hurt yourself." He said softly.

"Let me go!"

He didn't answer for a long time when she looked up at him, he was staring with a serious and intense look, "The question is, if I can?"

She panicked, "What? What does that even mean?"

"Exactly what it sounded like." He replied cheerfully.

"You can not go about abducting people!"

"I can, if I wish to and plan carefully."

"Dear God, you're a lunatic!" She practically shrieked, shrank into herself and closed her eyes tightly.

Just her luck to finally find her long ago voice to be of a madman. Now she cursed herself for ever thinking of wanting to see him again. God, will she never learn that men except for papa and Luwin are beasts. Selfish beasts. Why her? Why? Why?

"Sweetheart," she barely heard his whisper, "please look at me."

She slowly opened her lids and saw his encouraging smile. "You ran away that day." It wasn't a question but was softly uttered as one.

But Lia's temper could not be cooled that easily, "Can you blame me?" She pouted.

"Well, yes, since I told you not to move."

She just scowled at him and tried to kick his shins.

"And you did not even tell me your name."

"We just met." She grated while frowning. "And I don't make it a habit to go about, telling my name to lurking strangers with ogling eyes."

"Good. Or else, Angel, I would have worried about someone else taking you away from me."

"You don't have me!"

"Not yet."

She stopped struggling for a second and just stared. His words were very unsettling. How could he dare to lay claim on her like that after just a chance meeting.

"You're frightening me." She murmured, "Stop this nonsense at once."

Lia saw him recognize her unease and tried to induce levity in the moment. He mocked a severe thoughtful frown, "But, Angel, you must tell me your name. How else am I going to lurk the streets in my half crazed mind calling out for you?" He seemed so boyish in his teasing that a giggle escaped her but she swallowed the rest and glared at him.

"Crazy man."

"Aggravating Angel."

Lia needed to get out of there. No matter if she felt it in her bones that he would never hurt her but it was getting silly and Beth, her maid, was waiting for her. They both had to get home soon. It wasn't very original but she was glad that something finally came to her mind.

She looked past his shoulder and with relief exhaled, "Oh thank goodness you're here constable..."

He stiffened and moved in her line of vision, away from her. He turned to look behind when she slipped out of his grip and ran like hell. He laughed in surprise and disbelief but didn't follow her. She bested him fair and square. He ran both his hands through his hair and held them behind his neck and stared back at her when she turned around while hurriedly tucking her hair in the bonnet.

"I'll find you again. I promise you." It sounded more like a threat than a promise. Heart in her throat she just laughed at him and ran, vanishing among the crowd of people.


	6. Chapter 3

"I've heard that Stormed has quiet attached himself to the girl's skirts these days. Escorts the gel and her cousin almost everywhere."

Did he now? Circe stirred her tea with lowered lashes to hide her musings from her aunt and her companions. They, like the rest of the ton make it a sport to shake the infallible Circe Lannister for fun. Little do they know she was more than capable to handle thrill seeking old bats even with her half wit engaged.

'No doubt, Aunt, you think I will deny it passionately and announce the Stark girl my enemy thus forth.'

Ah how their society works! One might think, living at the pinnacle of civilization, kindness or other virtues were bred in the people. But no, that would be too boring for the indolent Gentry. Everyone must put others down to make their uselessness seem… well… not so useless.

"That's hardly a surprise Aunt!" Circe chuckled prettily with her guileless mask held strong in front of the dragons. "I do believe my very dear friends, the Dane sisters? Excellent family I assure you and attended the same finishing school as I." She explained at their frowns, "Told me they are neighbors to the Starks, and have mentioned that Lord Stormend visited Winterfell quiet frequently."

Lady Marcel, who was the sweetest for her silliness in the pack, nodded at Circe's explanation, "Is he not friends with Lord Eddard, Winterfell's son, as well?"

One lady, Mrs Drummond, stared intently at their young hostess and remarked, "I do not believe the boy has any familial intentions towards the gel. His unusual behavior has been remarked by many."

"But then we haven't seen, His Grace, with a sisterly figure before." Circe parried idly.

Lady Constance chortled, "Sisterly indeed!" the rest of the ladies joined her, making Circe now truly uncomfortable.

'I should have known the old cow wouldn't call on me without a reason!'

She didn't have to wait long for the reason as Lady Constance continued, "My dear girl, Stormend's behavior is not brotherly adoration." The sly old woman paused for effect and Circe geared herself for the revelation, "His are the actions of a besotted young man towards his intended." As if scripted, every bleary eye riveted towards Circe's face to seek her reaction, "There have been whispers of a secret betrothal that took place when the old duke was alive. Robert Baratheon I do believe is finally courting a young lady who has been chosen for him."

"And frankly, the popular opinion is that he is not at all unsatisfied by the choice for his duchess." her Aunt Lady Stafford smirked at her dearest friend, and the reason why she decided to shake the infallible Circe Lannister, Lady Tyrell. For whom the biggest crime Cersei ever committed was refusing her grandson's hand in marriage.

Ah to have friends like that. A recurrent thought came to Circe's mind along with the accompanying bitterness and resentment.

'How my aunt wasted no time barging in to embarrass her own niece at her friend's bidding. But then again friendships are earned with trust and loyalty and a Lannister's only loyalty is to their family.'

"Never show weakness. Never show predictability. And never wince at the face of duress."

It was like her father was standing beside her chair and shouting his wisdom at her.

"That is indeed surprising. Well…"

'Father will be furious enough to have a fit.'

Funny how her first thought was not indignation but worry at her father's reaction.

"…after all that is said, it does seem like a brilliant match! Quiet a… rewarding alliance."

'And after that he's going to demand results with any means possible.'

Dowager countess Tyrell smiled in her amusement, "Brilliant you say? I must concur as I too am a staunch believer that some things are above the plane of materialism. Rewarding indeed, lucky for Stormend."

'You, your dandy grandson and your pack of vicious old bitches may go straight to the devil.' Circe tried to convey the sentiment with her eyes and a negligent tilt of her proud chin yet kept a bland amiable smile on her face.

Lady Olenna was about to open her poisonous mouth again that Circe's father interrupted them. After sketching a perfect bow and a round of friendly greetings, he asked his daughter to be excused for a moment, and Circe was never happier for her father's interruption.

Out of the guest's sight, his manner again became brisk as he stormed to his library. She followed at a sedated pace and knew already what was coming. He was obviously outside the drawing room's door when one of the dragons decided to impart that bit of news to his daughter.

"I cannot bloody believe it! That old battle axe has the audacity to fling that rubbish on my face!"

'Always about you, father? What about me? How do you think I feel after making a cake of myself after your preferred duke in front of the whole ton?'

"Bloody Stark! Of course he would pre-think everything for that daughter! Even when…" his eyes fell on his daughter, "Well… were you not, dear daughter, quiet trite about Stormend looking for a different sort of wife?" He towered over her and spat, "One job, girl. Perhaps it is too much to ask for a female to be useful."

Refusing to be cowered and immune to his words she tried to reason with him, "Father, as you well know that the said betrothal was done in secrecy and perhaps without, his grace's knowledge. For all we know he still doesn't know and is just indulging a friend's younger sister on her first season."

"Just as well. Invite the girl to a tea party. Call on her. Become a part of their household for all it takes. I would have the support of the 2 seats that have a bloody say in the house!"

Not that she was privy to her father's deepest secret machinations, but she had a general idea that it was always something to do with politics and a bill he kept pushing forward.

'Oh Jaime. If only you knew what awaits you. You might never wish to return from your tour.'

How she envied the freedom of being a man. To escape even for a while from the unpleasantness of her life seemed like heaven. Yet here she was fighting her demons in the absence of her brother and conniving a way to gain a position of power to keep those demons at bay. The only way a female could gain her security.

How it angered her to feel helplessness sometimes. As if to mock her further, laughter was heard as a pianoforte started to play. Her eyes hardened in sudden anger.

"It will be as you wish, father. But," She pointed at source of the merry making, "he leaves this house."

"Dont be addled, girl. He's your brother and I have some use for him yet. That was actually the reason I wanted to see you. Tyrion, as you well have guessed, shall be taking residence here. And no matter that idiot's predilection to foolishness, I expect you to remain civilized."

"No respectable lady shall visit this household if it accommodates that satyr in here." she said pointed at the sounds of her little brother's indulgences. To which of course her father waved a dismissive hand.

"Do not worry about it. He has just arrived and I shall abreast him of his expected behavior. Now go and see your Aunt off." He turned around and muttered almost to himself, "It was bad form of them to blurt such speculations and gossip to our faces. I suppose mutterings behind fans do not have the same impact."

She quietly left him to his musing without being watchful of her environment, until it was too late and the demon of her former contemplation manifested itself.

A started gasp escaped her, "Uncle! I did not know you were visiting."

"Yes my dear, I know how much pain you take to avoid me these past months." Kevan Lannister pouted in mock reproach, "Very bad. I thought we would share more time since your hovering brother had gone away."

'Not hovering you monster. But protective.'

"I have missed you my sweet Circe. I hope my gifts were enough offerings as a token of my adoration to you." his slimy hand stretched forward to cup her ashen cheek.

'Gifts that I was burning in my hearth every time they arrived.'

She quickly took a step back and tried a polite smile. 'Surely there are servants about. Calm down, you are safe, Circe.'

"Please excuse me Uncle, but I have already left the guests unattended for too long." She tried to walk past him.

He captured her elbow, "Guests that have left already." then smirked, "I saw to that."

She shrugged him off with a stony glare, "Then perhaps you would wish to visit papa now. He's in the library."

'Your brother is right under this roof you bastard! Leave me be.'

"Oh no my darling." he rasped and crowded her in an empty room and locked the door, "I have exactly what I came for."

All her bravado seeped from her trembling body and she fought feebly like a frightened little girl she had been made felt throughout the years, "Uncle you mustn't. Please let me go."

'Oh God, do not make me endure this.'

"Or what? You shall scream?" He laughed while lifting her skirts, "You know what happens to disgraced little girls, Circe. And you never did scream before, did you? Ever."

Then again why would some Holy intervention help her? Since she has, for years, silently been an unwilling accomplice of the most unholy deeds imaginable.

* * *

She was still acting like a brat and had completely turned her back at him. But lord he was a fool to still find her adorable. What is it about the thought that something belongs to you? Why does it make it even more attractive? Robert patted his coat to feel the letter he had as an idea to make that little hellion remember her own sentiments not a long time ago.

Hicks was the genius behind the idea in his usual, disrespectful way. While tying Robert's cravat he listened to his grace's addled confessions about the young lady's attributes, and muttered under his breath, "Write a sonnet already will ye."

The incorrigible sod. Since it inadvertently gave Robert an idea he again dismissed his valet's grumpiness. After days of careful planning and soliciting favor from Starks and Martels, he finally had cornered Lia to talk to him in a public setting no less. Only to ensure her best behavior. He had taken them to one of the pleasure gardens, where everyone knew each other and the chances some unwelcome person to approach them and say their hellos were high. He would not let her waste what precious time they have.

"Lia."

If it was even possible she turned more to the opposite side of the bench where he lead her as soon as Elia Martel left them to greet someone.

"Lord but you might snap your small back if you go any further."

"Then please stop trying to engage me in a conversation." She said behind her hand.

The girl didn't even want to be seen exchanging words with him. Enough was enough.

"Lyanna Elizabeth Stark! You will turn around this instance…" he loudly said without giving a damn that he startled a passing couple.

"Hush!" Lia stiffened and hurriedly turned to him, "Keep your voice down!"

"Like I give a damn about.." He carried on in same volume.

"Do you not have any social graces?"

"What the devil?" He said incredulously. He didn't have any polish? "Says the brat who has been ignoring her company."

"Unwanted company, your grace." then tsked, "That is beside the point. You are making it quiet hard you know? I do not even know how one goes about in such instances?"

"What instances, Mia Lia?" he softened suddenly at the uncertainty in her voice, thinking that she has finally accepted that she was being courted by him and had no experience in the matter to guide her. Adorable.

Like she had listened to his inner delusional musings she replied drolly, "In case you have not noticed your grace, you were being given a cut direct."

"Was I? By whom?"

"By me!"

He chuckled, "Oh my Lia. And what do you know about that hmm?" He leaned on his arm which he stretched behind the bench. He was finally at ease now that he had engaged her anger. At least she was talking.

"Enough to know that when one has been dealt the like they should not make a spectacle but gracefully accept and remove their presence from further embarrassment." then laughed mockingly and looked him up and down, "But of course you wouldn't be deterred, Robert Baratheon! Not a shameful bone in that huge body."

Before Lia's eyes the common phenomenon of Robert preening like a peacock occurred, "Nice of you to notice, thought quite direct, Lady Lyanna." It was his turn to mock her, "I do believe I have obtained this built by sparring at Gentleman Jackson's regularly." His voice took a deeper timbre, "At least my physical appeal is not lost to the woman you've become, Mia Lia."

"I am beyond words." She gaped for a while, "Nothing in my statement have I indicated…" She scrunched her nose to show disgust, "…all that you've just said! Huge: As in, a gin house is huge. A common park is huge. A horse is huge."

His eyes were twinkling and she wanted to smack it out of there, "So you mean to say I am majestically huge like a stallion."

"Oh bother!" She turned away and faced forward, "'Vanity is the greatest seducer of reason.' I see that applies aptly."

He threw back his head and laughed, "Settle down you shrew. I know something that can calm you down."

It was with great effort that Lia held her tongue and ignored him as he got up and left her there on the bench. In her anger she didn't even bother to look for Elia who was watching everything from a distance with a smile.

"For a second, I was about to march up there and shake the little twit for avoiding Stormend like that in public." Oberyn followed his sister's gaze to remark, "I thought I taught her better."

"Oh hush you. Let her be. I think his grace was thoroughly charmed!"

"I still cannot believe you were an accomplice in his clever scheme, Elia." then sniffed, "I suppose I am too, in an indirect way, being the acquaintance that you HAD to see and meet suddenly."

Elia's soft laughter tinkled behind a hand to smother the volume in order to keep their position hidden from their cousin, "But it worked did it not? After all these days Uncle was getting worried at her aversion to his grace. I would not have done it had I not been given a nod from him and also an assurance that the final decision shall be Lia's. He but only wanted Stormend to have a chance."

"If her sour little face is any indication I would say Stormend has his work cut out for him." He said in amusement, "Imagine our little Lia, a duchess! No. I cannot imagine her in a dignified position. With her unkempt, unfashionable hair and dirty feet, I imagine her in a more savage setting of the Americas. Yes." He looked contemplative for a second, "Perhaps one of our American landowner friends…"

"Do not dare, Oberyn." Elia interrupted his thought process hotly, "She shall remain here, in England. So, keep your rich savage friends well away from her and Uncle!"

"Oh sweetheart, how you forget, we too have that 'savage' blood in us." he rebuked fondly.

"Not at our behest." her smile wilted a bit as she turned to look back at Lia only to crow again, "Hush now he's coming back." then frowned, "But I do not know how much time is enough to keep a single couple unchaperoned."

"Not a well thought scheme then."

"Shut up, please."

'Look at talking to herself and preparing more words to spit at me.' Robert thought ruefully. Never has someone spoken to him like she did, and so shamelessly. He looked around the park and caught eyes of at least 3 ladies who coyly smiled at him in invitation. Openly. Any fool with a working vision can feel their palpable desire for him. Except for the little fool in a charming yellow dress he left sitting on the bench.

He should know by now that his Lia does not fall in the general category and does everything to set herself apart. Not once had she noted how many salutations he received while walking with her and Miss. Martel. No, she strolled with a lightness of a dreamer and had a peculiar smile on her face while searching corners and dark places. Which was odd, but her smile made her silence and nonchalance bearable. More than once his sentences broke while staring at her that Miss Martel had to prompt him to save him from embarrassment.

He got the ices and headed back towards Lia, when his eyes caught the brother and sister watching unabashedly while hiding from their cousin. He smiled when he remembered how the gentle and slight Miss. Martel warned her when he requested her help to talk to Lia in some semblance of privacy.

"Out of hearing, Your Grace. Not out of sight mind you." She wagged a stern finger but a secretive smile.

No doubt Lord Winterfell had already made her cognizant of the situation. He should feel sorry for Lia because the poor thing had no chance at keeping him out of her life, because since their childhood he came barging in that life and laid claim. She only has to acknowledge that fact.

He saw her stiffening at his approach and decided that 'offense is the best defense' was thought out for such instances and called out,

"You're not going to feign a sudden headache, are you?"

"No." she said in outrage. Then while trying yet failing to control that temper of hers she said with pinched lips, "That would be an unnecessary cowardice."

"Yes and my Lia is anything but a coward."

"I am not your Lia!"

He waved the paper cones negligently, "Debatable." then before she could speak the words boiling to be spat out he thrust the ices at her, "Here."

When she did not take them and kept on glaring at him he waved them in a circle before those grey eyes.

"What are you doing?"

"Tempting the tempest with ices apparently. Is it not working?" he looked at the cone, "It's lemon flavor, to match your dress. So, that it's not much visible when you drop some on yourself."

She kept on glaring but took it from him, "How sure you are I will drop it on myself like a child."

"Oh? I thought what with your behavior these past days that is to be expected."

'I shall not be goaded. I shall not be goaded. I SHALL NOT BE GOADED!' Lia chanted it in her mind, trying to calm herself in front of the one person to whom she had much to prove. What is it about rivals that one sparring with them and they could jostle your passion to take them out with any means necessary. She must realize this show of high emotion was unseemly and Elia would be disappointed if that traitor was here to see.

She took a hefty bite without thinking and immediately froze with the sudden headache.

"Oh no!" she faintly said with a frozen tongue and covered her mouthing with her hand while holding her cone towards Robert, to take. She could not spit out and make a display of herself in front of so many people.

Robert was laughing delightedly at her at which she turned her troubled gaze towards him. Looking at her wet eyes and red cheeks he immediately stopped. He dropped his cone to take out his handkerchief, "Spit it out if you must, tesoro." he held it out for her.

She shook her head and held her face in her hands and persevered through the uncomfortable sensation. "Dear God. It only happened once when Nan made them the first time when you told me about these."

He smiled, "Yes I remember you telling me about it."

"I was so excited that I took a huge bite then as well." she laughed ruefully while taking her ices back.

"So what were you excited about today?" he motioned for her hand with his handkerchief.

She gave him her hand not knowing what he meant to do and eyed him amusedly, "Not excited, your Grace, but I was struggling to reign my temper."

"And what a way to break the ice!" he chortled while carelessly dabbing the hand nearer to him which had some melted ice from her struggle to hand it to him. "Please do not be angry anymore Lia. I wanted to talk to you for just this reason."

"To induce a headache one way or another?" she raised an eyebrow.

"No." he smiled again, "To make you realize that we cannot go about pretending to be strangers, Mia Lia. We have much cherished memories among us and I would, that they do not turn sour because of a few unpleasant ones."

Her smile had already slipped at his words but managed to say achingly, "A few too many, your Grace."

"I wish we could go back to how we were." he said quietly and willed her to look at him and his earnestness.

Lia silently nibbled at her ices with a sad yet resigned frown on her face. Like it was useless to argue with him and no matter the words, he still would not understand her. He hated that look on her face. He would rather face her wrath then have this indifference that said something was not worth the effort.

'Well old boy, it's now or never.'

He quickly took out a wrinkled and yellowed letter from his pocket and made a show of unfolding it and clearing his throat.

"Dear Deer. Or should I say deer-est dear!…" He watched the cone falling from her fingers as she turned to gape him incredulously. He decided to keep going.

"…I hope you have realized by now how excited and happy I am today. I wish you could see how…"

She lunged for the letter which he had anticipated and moved it out of her reach. "Stop, damn you. Elia might return and hear your demented ramblings!"

"Ramblings!" He voiced aghast, "I would have you know this is a letter I received…" but broke when she tried to take it away again with a quick hand.

"Give it back!"

"Back? It's mine!"

She looked so worried, with her darting eyes that he thought he must allay her fear before she runs away to escape. "As for someone finding out, well, I have a sheet of some scientific drab with me. If someone is to come this way I shall surreptitiously exchange the pages. No problem."

"Oh bother you, Robert Baratheon. I wish you would not read it at all."

"Well tough luck, my Lia. Now you stay over there and brood while I read MY letter from a loved one from long ago. Where was I? Ah."

"…I wish you could see how my hands are trembling right now! …"

"Oh it was not hard to imagine since your writing had gone illegible a bit in this one."

"…Do you remember my cousin, Miss Elia Martel, recently told me how young ladies are introduced in the ton? She even explained to me what Ton was. Let me tell you, it is not a measurement of weight and it is a height of ignorance to think that. I am letting you know in case you have any confusions as well…."

Robert chuckled under his breath.

"…Anyway, so Elia told me about the coming and goings of this 'Season' business, which sounded absolutely splendid! Naturally, I had to ask father if I too shall have a Season and he said yes! Imagine me in all the prettiest dresses and hairstyles curtsying and dancing with all the elegant people like Elia! I can hardly wait though it may take some time for me learn to be more like them.

You would be there as well, no? Lord Dragaestone, all decked up in his pompous clothing!…"

"I imagined you giggling over here while writing that." Robert remarked fondly.

"…Elia mentioned a lot about dancing. Seems very tedious to be honest. Elia said people find it quite enjoyable but how could one enjoy while worrying about the steps and minding the other person's toes? This worries me greatly…."

"'Greatly.'" He crowed, "As if that is singly the most gravest matter in the world!"

"…Thus, I propose we promise that you partner with me as often as possible, till I gain more confidence and stop prodding on unsuspecting feet. Since I have already made you promise once, I must insist on others as well. Oh, do not frown at my words so, I but request that you show me the sights of London that you have mentioned before. Taste all the delicacies and do not forget the flavored ices! Ever since Ned and yourself explained the novelty of those ices, Nan and I have been trying to replicate them every winter. I would like to try those as well if you do not mind.

In all my excitement I forgot…."

He stopped at the sound of a sniffle that Lia tried so hard to hide. "Lia?"

She turned at him with aggravation shining in her tear bright eyes, "How could you?"

He was at a loss to even utter a word in his defense so she kept saying, "How could you embarrass me so? I did not believe that you could be so callous in your teasings. What are you trying to achieve, your Grace? Are you flinging a young girl's desperation for friendship so carelessly? Or her excitement at hope to be accepted? Well, complete your cruelty then and finish that letter."

He still winces while reading the last part. Her childish wistfulness truly gauged his heart even back when he first received it.

He folded it and placed it back in his coat, "You know I cannot." he assured gravely.

"Lia, you must believe me when i say that it was not my intention to embarrass you or make you feel ashamed of what I truly cherished all my life. I wanted you to know that i did not have a disrespectful disregard for your friendship. I still take out these letters once in a while to read them because I have treasured them."

Thinking how he thought of her a silly little girl throwing a temper tantrum and promising himself to discipline her, turned his own ears red at the tips. He decided to be honest with her, "I- ahem, I would not deny that i did think callously that you over reacted all those years ago. I must confess I did not handle it gracefully. But seeing you now, seeing how you abhor me and worst, seem indifferent to me, it made me realize how easily all can be lost. Only because I let you keep on thinking that I did not value you."

"The last time…at the creek, you were so cruel."

"I know."

"It was surreal to see you change so. It was a rude awakening, Robert Baratheon. No, do not interrupt me and let me say my piece."

It was inevitable, Lia thought. They were bound to cross paths and her childish notion of never wanting to see him again was just that, childish. Since he wanted to clear the air and was willing to listen to her without turning into a veritable ogre, she decided to let him hear the words that she had practiced in the last 2 years.

She sighed and decided to shed more of her layers towards maturity. Forgiving and forgetting.

"Things…do not revert back in a blink of an eye. I am not the same little girl as I was before, naive with idyllic expectations. People change and I wish to believe that I have grown up and out of that image, that I too have changed for the better if you look at it neutrally. I beg of you to let go of your pride for a second and acknowledge the wrong you dealt my younger self, Stormend."

When she saw him opening his mouth to debate that point she hurriedly asked, "Would you have tolerated a boy 8 years older than your sister or daughter…uh.. handling her like you did me? A little girl who in her innocence would have kept her confusions a secret from you? Actions have impacts and I believe how you conducted yours, it was very poorly."

"I never once crossed a line…."

Thinking that she still has not made her point clear she quickly blurted, "I felt betrayed by you." That immediately silenced him. "I felt ashamed to have trusted someone when I knew what you wanted or did was wrong. Please understand that I had no comprehension of evolved feelings. I only felt betrayed and hurt."

They both fell into silence again. It was a lot to take in for him, she thought, while looking at his frown.

Beneath that outwardly frown, Robert was deeply shaken at the extent of damage his disinterest in his actions has havocked. What an arrogant little beast he has been all his life. Why is it that her words only made him go through ALL the instances where he has shown tactlessness? And he just wanted to marry the chit and leave her in the country…

'Such mature words and wisdom.' Robert looked at her with a new admiration. 'That look, like she is growing in front of my eyes.'

Realizing the discernible gravity that has descended around them she decided to cry truce. Giving him a playful smirk she remarked, "Also manipulating my cousin and my family will not change how I've come to feel about you. I'm sorry but my person would not transform into my young adoration just because I have finally entered the real world. Forced to see and hear what a laudable duke you are."

He for a moment just stared at her but then Robert's expressions changed as only he could achieve, devious eyes with an innocent serenity on his face. He accepted the olive branch.

"That does not mean that I agree with the common consensus."

"Yet." He said with a confidence which made them both chuckle.

When they have quieted down she took a deep breath and let it go slowly. Keeping grudges takes a toll on one's mind and body. She was feeling lighter already. The reason behind his insistence at meeting her and all the floating whispers these days… that is a different and worrying matter. One that she shall straighten out when the time comes. She was not disillusioned that after all this time suddenly father would bring her to society just for her leisure. There was an air of finality when she drove away from Winterfell at the starting of this season.

But for now just like any other young and carefree person she decided to live in the moment, happy and grudge-free. Seeing her Artemis medallion attached to Robert Baratheon's fob watch helped making that decision too. Had he made a show of it in one of the parties, she would have never let herself be abandoned by Elia in his company today. She still remembers how saw him coming out of a shop on Bond Street, frowning at his watch, without a clue that she was within seeing distance with Elia. There, artlessly dangling from an intricate gold chain was a worn medallion. His reading of her letter today only made her suspicions clear: Robert Baratheon was an arrogant idiot, who shows his emotions and appreciation in his own way.

"It gets tiring, does it not?"

"Indeed." Robert sighed too.

"I'm sorry about your father. I know you were very close to him."

"Yes, well he died a happy man. Still miss him though."

She nodded in sympathy and asked after a moment, "Shall we signal Elia to come out from behind that tree? I think that's about enough time."

Robert threw his head back and laughed, "You minx! You knew it all along."

"I just told you, manipulating them would not work." She said dryly while waving at the solitary tree. Slowly as if in resignation two figures emerged from behind it and strolled towards them.

Oberyn did a very overly acted performance of shock, "Oh! I did not know you were here! Elia and I had so MUCH to talk about that we had no idea of the time!" Elia by now was blushing furiously.

"Hello, acquaintance." Lia drawled, deciding not to spare her cousin her embarrassment.

"Hello, brat." Oberyn smirked back delightedly.

Walking back from the gardens, the siblings decided to take lead while Robert held Lia back a little, "I know it is too soon to ask for your trust again, Lia, but believe me I will have that again soon. I did not understand from your point of view and always blamed it to be a tantrum that almost cost me a dear friendship with your brother." Lia was frowning by then.

"I think I am finally understanding a bit. I cannot tell you my point of view right now. I wish I could tell you… well… everything. But maybe in the future when we have rebuilt some trust in a new light."

* * *

….. In all my excitement I forgot to wish you well and hope everything too is well in the Baratheon household. Though I already know it is. You never speak of your family except your papa. Sometimes I wish I could visit your house and bother you like you do me, but I know papa would never allow it. At times I think I am being hidden away like a secret from the world. Since the only person from outside of the family I am allowed to meet is you. I do not know how that makes me feel but I do know I feel sad whenever I think about papa being embarrassed of me.

Do you think papa is hiding me in shame? Would you be embarrassed to be seen dancing with me during my season? Would your friends in the city laugh at me? I hope not. Papa's words today have given me much hope that i can go and see places as well, I just have to come to age. You have no idea how much scared I was before. Now, I shall see the world beyond the iciness of Winterfell! So I shall persevere and grow up as not to embarrass you and everyone.

Take care of yourself, please, and next time bring that black stallion of yours. I shall braid his hair.

Yours etc,

Ribbon Weaver.


End file.
